


Skinship

by EveHypo555



Category: Thai Actor RPF, เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 167,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveHypo555/pseuds/EveHypo555
Summary: Skinship Reloaded: an updated and upgraded version of the original that was first published in January 2020 and completed in May 2020.A series of behind the scenes snippets of Mew and Gulf falling in love during the filming of TharnType The Series.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 38
Kudos: 241





	1. Nong Stress Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Skinship now has an audio version! You can listen to Rorikins' beautiful reading here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29637768/chapters/72864747

Gulf helps himself to the food at the snack table. It's sweltering on set today. Something about the mics picking up the aircon noise and having to turn them off. He feels the familiar touch of P'Mew's arms wrap around his waist and he struggles to restrain his smile. His senior pats and squeezes at his stomach and as always, he’s thankful he isn’t ticklish. 

Mew pinches at a bit of baby fat. "Yai Nong is my stress ball." His laugh is deep and playful. A good laugh. Gulf enjoys hearing it. 

"And what does Khun Phi have to be stressed about?" He turns to look at him and gazes into his large, smiling eyes. The sight sends a feeling through his body he can't quite name. It lingers on the edges of his extremities, waiting for shape and form. For now, Gulf has decided to call it _warmth_. 

"Things I haven't had to think about for a while,” he says with a shrug.

"Girl trouble?" 

He rests his chin on Gulf's shoulder. They're so close now. Always so close. "No, I never have trouble with girls." He laughs again, humbling his otherwise arrogant statement. 

Gulf supposes P'Mew is right. Someone as handsome and charming as him should have no problem talking to women. He wonders how many girlfriends P'Mew has had. Just curious, of course. He pops a rice cracker into his mouth, pushing the thought from his mind.

"Feed me next," says Mew. He chuckles into Gulf's neck, sending warm breath across his skin. Hopefully he won't notice his goosebumps. 

Gulf hovers a toothpick over a strawberry. "This one?" 

“Too big." 

"Like your mouth isn't big enough to fit." 

"Hey," he chides. He pokes at his stomach. "Quit telling the truth na. Okay, give me the big one." He opens his mouth for Gulf to feed him. 

He skewers one of the large slices of cantaloupe instead. "You like it big?" He brings the fruit to his senior. 

Mew laughs and leans toward it. "You're so cruel to your Phi." He takes the entire slice in one bite. Gulf suppresses the need to swallow. It's probably the heat that's causing him to salivate. 

P'Mew cranes his neck to look at him. "Sweet," he notes. "But not as sweet as Nong Stress Ball." He squeezes again at his tummy. 

Gulf's smile is big and genuine and it fills him with that warmth that comes from looking at P'Mew. He can smile like this in front of the cameras. Fans would love this sort of reaction.

"Be careful," says Gulf, "or you'll make me fall for you." He grins at the inside joke, recalling that day at workshop. All it took was one compliment, and there was P'Mew telling him, _Be careful_ _or you'll make me fall for you._ Gulf can never forget those words, that warning from his handsome senior. 

Mew's large and sparkling eyes often leave Gulf spellbound. Pity he can't make his own eyes look so expressive. He's tried in the mirror at home, but his childish, baby face ends up looking comical. He doesn't have the same range of facial expressions, nor the dashing good looks. Cute. Baby. Adorable. This is what Gulf has to work with. 

Mew nods and makes some noise of agreement. "I suppose there are worse things than that." He smiles, and the warmth renews itself in Gulf’s stomach. A warmth he suspects has nothing to do with the lack of aircon. 

_________________

Gulf takes a deep breath. Not to calm his nerves, but to focus on his character. He has no need to be nervous, even if it's their big love scene. He has no reason to be afraid. He looks at Mew and for the first time, he delays transforming into Type, just for a second to give his co-star a smile. To tell him that he knows he'll be fine. He knows Mew will protect him. 

He watches Mew as their lips make contact. How gently his senior moves against his mouth, as if Gulf is precious to him. But of course, he isn't. He's not even Gulf. He's Type and those kisses are for him. They belong to a boy who resembles him in many ways, but is not him. The kisses, also, are not from P'Mew, but from Tharn. 

Their intensity grows and somewhere inside him, Type responds to it. He can feel the way he yearns for more when Tharn pulls away, and his curiosity as he runs his hand down Tharn's chest. When Tharn kisses his neck, Type’s rapture becomes his own. 

They cut and reset for another take. P'Mew looks at him with a methodical expression. "What if I go to your left first when I kiss your neck? It'll let the camera catch your initial reaction to it." 

"Khrab. Good idea." P’Mew is so good about these things. It’s as if he thinks of everything: where to lay his body so he doesn't crush him, how to turn his head so the camera gets the best angle, the nuances of tiny smiles and heated looks that give depth to love scenes, and even supporting Gulf's neck as they kiss. It reminds him how much of a pro P'Mew is, and that he's in good hands. 

They start again and the change makes all the difference. Just knowing everyone can see how much he loves it makes the fire in his belly flare up. When Tharn’s lips make contact with his neck, it’s Gulf who arches his back and bites on his lip. His kisses are intoxicating, and he can't help but slip him some tongue. Isn't it what Type would do? And God, Tharn is reciprocating, and it feels like heaven. It feels like falling in love. 

"Cut." P'Tee's finger is still on the walkie talkie button and everyone can hear him sigh. "Remember the rating, guys." 

Easier said than done. So much of Type's early dialogue is based on denial, and it's only through these snippets of intimacy that Gulf can express his character's hidden longing. It's the difference between his and P'Mew's approach to love scenes. Mew sees it as a highly choreographed performance, whereas Gulf _feels_ everything and uses those feelings to drive his actions. It’s why he’s got a raging boner right now. The question is, why does P’Mew have one, too?

_______________

They change out of their costumes in the large dressing room. Gulf never knows what to say during these moments, when they're both alone in a state of undress. Sometimes P'Mew makes conversation, other times they're silent. He usually leaves it up to him. 

"Ugh." 

Gulf looks over at his senior. His shirt is open, his chest bare. He remembers touching that chest, running his hand down his skin, scraping with his nails. He can feel phantom traces of Mew's body on his fingertips. 

"Something wrong, Phi?" 

He makes a noise, examining himself in the mirror. "I think I'm getting fat." He pinches at his waist. 

Gulf rolls his eyes. Why is it always the people with hot bodies who are the most self-conscious? “I thought Phi liked bellies,” he teases. “Or is it just mine?” 

Mew freezes before breaking into a smile. “Just yours.” He winks and slides the shirt down his shoulders. How can a simple action be so sensual? So evocative? He's reminded of the shower scene, of Mew pushing him against the wall and advancing toward him as he peeled off his shirt. P'Mew isn't even trying to be sexy right now, and yet it seems to happen of its own free will. 

Gulf removes his own shirt, purposely making his movements as unsexy as possible. To show that he's not trying. Nobody can ever accuse Gulf of trying to be sexy. It's probably one of the reasons they cast him. Anger. Confusion. Sexual repression. This is what Gulf has to offer. 

P'Mew zips up his bag. "I'm leaving first.” He pats him on the back. “I have class. Be good na.” He’s out the door before Gulf can say bye. Might as well. 

________________

P'Mew tugs on the back of Gulf's shirt until he falls into his lap. His arms make their way to their usual place around his waist and his hands grab and knead at his tummy. Gulf smiles, savoring the embrace and the warmth. Why shouldn't he enjoy being held? He thought it would be weird sitting in a man's lap, being made to feel like the "girl," so to speak. He's sat on a friend's lap before as a joke, playing along and pretending to flirt. Typical shenanigans at an all boys school. But with P’Mew, he still feels like a man. So what if he likes being held and feeling protected? Men can enjoy that, can't they? It's nice to feel small for once. 

Gulf tries his best not to snuggle against him. He can't appear too willing, after all. Shouldn’t he be more of a tsundere and resist his Khun Phi at times? Make him work for the affection? He leans forward, but Mew eases him back and holds him close. Oh well, he gave it his best shot. 

They move out to the hallway so the staff can set up the next scene. Mew chats with a few of the crew members, and Gulf is left standing alone, already missing the warmth. He looks at his script to review his lines, but all he can focus on is P'Mew's voice and P'Mew's laugh and P'Mew's aggravating distance from him. 

He wanders closer, under the pretense of standing by the aircon. Bad idea. He gets hot easily but lately he's started to feel cold. Especially without Mew’s arms around him. When will his senior take the hint and come hold him already? Can't he see all the ample space around him where two people can easily hug? 

"...exactly like you said. Yes, let me show you in the stage directions." Mew looks around and breaks into a smile as his eyes land on Gulf. "Nong, can you bring your script?" 

He does as he's told and only then does Mew slide an arm around his waist to give him the contact he so craves. Because it's true. Gulf has begun to crave these touches. Can he help it? P'Mew feels soft and comfortable, despite his toned arms and chest (which Gulf only notices because his senior is worried about getting fat, not because he's checking him out or anything). Gulf read somewhere that humans are soothed by light physical pressure, and perhaps that's why he feels such pleasure in these cuddles. They make him feel loved, even if that’s not the case. The sensation is enough for him. 


	2. Eye of the Beholder

Gulf looks across the room at P’Mew. He’s distant again, not that Gulf is keeping track. They’re not even fighting and yet he’s all the way over there, chatting with P’Eye as if they were best friends. It’s not like he’s jealous. He’s not possessive of his Khun Phi’s attention or anything. Even if she does make Mew laugh so hard that he doubles over and wipes tears from his eyes. Or even if they’re huddled close as if they’re sharing secrets. Or even if Mew is _his_ Khun Phi in the first place. What could he possibly be jealous about? 

“Yai Nong!” P’Mild throws an arm around his shoulder. “There you are, little one. Well, tall little one. You know what? Forget the title. There you are!”

“Hi.”

“Aow.” He cranes his neck to look at him. “Not happy to see me? So stingy with your love. If only I were big and tall and handsome like P’Mew, then maybe Yai Nong would give me the time of day.” He tsks and shakes his head. 

He looks at his senior, at his playful smile and mischievous eyes. “Sorry. Shall we have an adventure na, Phi?”

“Oho…” P’Mild points at him. “Are you sulking at hubby again? Is that why you want to hang out with me all of a sudden? You know what? I don’t care. Come on, let’s get some snacks. I bet we can steal some of Mew’s food.” 

They sit in the corner, as per Gulf’s request. There’s something comforting about corners, about having the walls surround him. He likes feeling enclosed in things; blankets, pillow forts, someone’s arms. 

P’Mild leans toward him, holding a potato chip in front of his face. “Naaaa. It’s yuuuuummy…” Gulf sighs and bites it out of his fingers. “Okay, what’s wrong na? Hmm? Sulking at big, tall, and handsome over there?” He nods his head in Mew’s direction. He’s _still_ talking to P’Eye. Not that Gulf’s been keeping track. 

“I’m just sleepy, Phi.” He lays his head in Mild’s lap. It’s much smaller than Mew’s but soft and comfortable nonetheless. He falls asleep to Mild running his fingers through his hair. 

_____________________________

Well, they must be fighting now. Everyone is staring at him as if he's supposed to do something. They can all sense something's wrong, because shouldn't they be wrapped in each other's arms by now? Shouldn't Gulf be sitting in Mew's lap and not in a chair like a normal person? He squirms in his seat just thinking about it. Have chairs always been this uncomfortable? 

He should've realized Mew was upset with him when he went to rehearse lines by himself. Isn't that part of Gulf's job? He's the one who's supposed to be there for him before and after scenes. They're supposed to be there for each other. 

"Yai Nong?" P'Mame crouches next to him. "I think your Khun Phi is sulking. Why don't you try to gnor him?" 

About what, though? It’s not like Gulf’s been ditching him to talk to someone else. He shuffles over to his Phi, hands balled into fists. What does he have to apologize for? He hasn't done anything wrong, and now he's supposed to reconcile a fight he knows nothing about? 

"P'Mew…" he tries to hold his arm as they walk to the mattress store. "P'Mew khraaaab." But Mew pulls away from him. The rejection stings like nothing he's ever felt, but he has a feeling Mew's the kind of person who needs to push someone away a little to see if they keep trying. He needs to know if they think he's worth the effort. 

Honestly, the lengths he'll go to for this man. He tries again. "P'Mew khraaaab. What's wrong na khrab? P'Mew, talk na to Yai Nong." He sighs and softens his voice as much as he can. “I’m sorry na, P’Mew. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Don’t be angry at me anymore, I don’t like it when we’re apart.” 

His senior slows his pace as they reach the store and he finally lets Gulf hang onto his arm. His face is cold and stern, like the P'Mew that everyone else sees. "We should practice our lines, I guess." 

They choose one of the beds to lie on while they rehearse. Ten minutes into running lines, Mew’s arm wraps around his waist. Gulf sneaks a peek at his face to find it still stern. By the time they run their lines a second time, Mew’s other hand is resting on his leg and his face is calm. After another five minutes, Mew’s head leans against his shoulder. Gulf closes his eyes to savor the feeling of it, of having Mew hold him again, of him resting his full weight on him. 

“Does Khun Phi forgive me na?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Aow.” 

Mew chuckles and pulls him close. “I’m kidding. Of course I forgive you.”

“Good, because I still don’t know what I did.” 

His senior sighs and grabs his tummy. “I know. And I’ll tell you one day, is that okay?” 

“Shai.” What choice does he have?

_____________

P’Mew squeezes him tight, so much so that Gulf can barely see his script over Mew’s shoulder. He doesn't mind, though, especially now that they've made up. Whatever that fight was even about. It doesn't matter as long as those arms are around him again. They’ve blocked off part of the mall for filming, but it still feels weird being this close in public. It’s weird, but also a little exciting. He’s used to the crew and staff getting shy around them whenever they do skinship, but knowing that strangers could see them like this makes his ears burn and his stomach flutter. 

“Aow,” Mew lessens his grip and straightens his posture. “If it isn’t the homewrecker.”

“Homewrecker?” Gulf glances behind him as P’Eye approaches them. Oh, Puifai. 

“Well, aren’t you two cuddly.” Her teasing smile is so pretty.

Gulf pulls out of Mew’s embrace. “We were just running lines.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” She giggles and grabs a water from the cooler next to them. “I just came to hydrate. I’m glad you guys made up!” She winks and walks off. 

He waits for his senior to hold him again, but he does no such thing. Mew runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Uh, Gulf, I’ll be right back.” He walks off before he can respond. 

_Gulf?_ Just Gulf? No Yai Nong? No Nong Stress Ball? He watches Mew chase after Eye and talk to her. Why does he look so shy? “Right back” turns into five minutes, then ten, and then it’s time to shoot their scene. P’Eye smiles and points in Gulf’s direction. She laughs and playfully pushes Mew back the way he came. He looks reluctant to return to Gulf, but he does as P’Eye orders. 

“Okay, sorry na. Are you ready?” Mew throws an arm around his shoulder, but doesn’t resume hugging him. 

“What was that about, Khun Phi?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” 

__________________________

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Gulf reaches for the sticky note on the set of drawers. “Why are you still mad?” Type’s frustration courses through him. Why is his roommate acting so childish?

“You went home without telling me. And all that silent treatment shit you gave me.” Tharn should’ve at least let him know he wouldn’t be around. He could’ve made plans if he’d known the asshole would be gone. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Hasn’t he made an effort? He invited him to lunch, went to the bar, even sat by himself while Tharn drank with some other guys. What a dick. If Tharn likes him so much, why does he keep leaving him alone? 

_Why does he keep leaving him alone?_

Gulf stares at the note. It’s much neater than Mew’s handwriting. He’s seen enough of his scribbles to recognize it anywhere. 

“Is it because of that goddamn kiss?” His mind flashes back to that night at P’Jeed’s. Tharn’s lips were so soft that night. But he couldn’t have let it continue. Not in public. Not with a man. He just couldn’t. 

He crumples the note and tosses it onto Tharn’s bed. “Dream on if you think I’m going to apologize.” He falls back onto his own bed. For once it feels too big for him. Too much empty space for just one person. But there’s no way in hell he’s going to apologize to that jerk Tharn. 

"Cut na khrab. Good job, Gulf." 

He stays on the bed, staring up at Tharn and Type's ceiling. He's not surprised he got the scene in one take. Hasn't he been feeling like this all week, what with P'Mew leaving him at every opportunity to chat with P'Eye? His new bestie? Not that he's jealous or anything. If he were jealous, he wouldn't have apologized to him at the mall for reasons he still doesn't know. He would've sulked back at him for ditching him so much. But he's not jealous.

He just misses his Khun Phi.

________________________

“Do you have the recipe?” Puifai looks at Type from across the table. Her smile is flirtatious in a subtle kind of way, not overt like Tharn’s. 

Her friend prompts her to ask for his Line ID and excitement floods his belly and chest. Fai is clearly out of his league, yet here she is, asking for his number. 

“My family loves Southern food,” she adds, reaching into her purse. She’s so cool and composed while all he can do is sit there, marveling at his luck. Could someone as cute as her really be interested in him? Then again, Tharn likes him, and he’s easily the most handsome guy on campus. Possibly ever, but that’s not the point. Maybe they’re not out of his league, after all. 

He enters his number, catching her staring at him with a look of victory on her pretty face. Her smile is wide and dazzling. Type ignores how much it reminds him of his roommate. Besides, Fai’s is more beguiling, whereas Tharn’s is goofy and elated. He’s like a puppy who wags his tail whenever Type looks at him. When they leave, Fai glances over her shoulder and smiles. No girl has ever done that to him.Type is giddy just thinking about it. Tharn could never pull off such a cute move. And even if he did, it wouldn’t have the same effect. Tharn has a different kind of cute, more of a mischievous smirk and the kind of teasing, hungry gaze that leaves him mesmerized. 

“Cut khrab.” P”Tee’s voice comes through the nearest walkie. “That’s a wrap for this scene. Great job, everyone. Let’s head to the next location.” 

Gulf unfolds his blanket when he gets to the van. He’s been so cold these past few days. 

“N’Gulf?” 

He glances at the back seat, where P’Eye is gesturing for him to sit next to her. They haven’t talked much since the early group workshops. How could he have without interrupting her little chit chats with P'Mew? If there's anything he dislikes more than social interaction, it's social interaction as a third wheel. He joins her, but leaves a comfortable distance between them. “Khrab?”

“Is Nong hungry na?” She tilts her head to the side and smiles. She’s even more charming out of character. “I brought lots of snacks. Help me eat them, okay?” 

“Um…sure?” Why is she being so nice to him? 

Her face disappears into the large plastic bag in her lap. “Let’s see...seaweed snacks… cuttlefish chips… pork rinds… dried mango…” She looks up and smiles. “What does Nong like? Oh, and I have chestnuts.”

He can’t help but laugh at the sight of her tiny frame with such a big bag of food. “Phi is very prepared.” 

Her laugh is soft and indulgent. “Shai. I just know all these restaurant scenes will make me hungry, and we won’t get to eat any of it.” She pouts and looks at the assortment in her lap. “A girl needs her snacks.”

He nods and looks at the food peeking out above the plastic. “Did Phi say pork rinds?”

“Shai, shai!” She hands them over and smirks. “P’Mew mentioned you like them.” 

He _what?_ Gulf rips the bag open a little too hard. Several pork rinds spill onto his lap and the floor of the van. “Shia! Sorry, sorry.” He scrambles to pick them up. 

To his surprise, P’Eye leans down to help him. “Aow, this would have been a great piece.” She holds one up that looks especially puffy. “Here, we can put them in this empty chip bag from this morning.” 

“Thanks na, Phi.” 

She smiles as if she knows something he doesn’t. “Does it make you nervous hearing his name?”

“Phi khrab?” 

“You don’t have to pretend, he’s not here.” She has a teasing look on her face as she tosses the dirty pork rinds into the empty bag. 

“It’s not that,” he confesses. Ordinarily, she’d be right, but not this past week. “It’s just that… P’Mew mentioned me?”

She laughs and pats him on the arm. “Nong… All he does is talk about you. Did you not know that?” 

“Aow.” He looks down at the floor as he eats his pork rinds. “Work stuff, right?”

“What do you think?” She brushes some crumbs off his face. “You think your favorite snack is considered work stuff?” 

"Phi is imagining things.” He hopes she doesn’t notice his ears. He just knows they’re red. 

"Not at all, Nong. A woman knows." 

____________________

“Is Nong sad na?” P’Eye sits next to him on the bench outside Puifai’s condo. She holds out an open bag of pork rinds. “Mph. They’re good.” 

He chuckles and pops one in his mouth. “Not sad, Phi.” Just lonely. 

She crunches loudly and covers her mouth. “Oops. You know, I’ve been reading through the script. My heart ached so much when Type broke up with Tharn as part of the plan. Could you imagine having to hurt someone like that and keep your distance when all you want to do is reach out and hold them?”

Gulf shakes his head. He’s never been good at restraining himself. “No, but I guess I’ll have to imagine it soon.” He studies her smile. It’s that same look again, as if she knows something he doesn’t. “Phi khrab? Do you think it’s worse being the one who knows the plan and has to cause the pain, or the one who doesn’t know what’s going on and only feels the pain?”

Her eyes turn sad and she offers him more pork rinds. “For Tharn and Type? Or in general?”

Gulf pauses mid-bite. What does he mean? “Either? Both. Either.” 

She laughs and hands him the bag. “I think in either case, nobody has it worse. It’s love, and both of them are suffering.” She looks at him for a moment, lips pursed in thought. “Give me a second, okay?” She pulls out her phone and stands up to take a selfie. Her pose is smug and taunting and she snickers as she types something. A text, maybe? Her phone buzzes and she giggles as she reads the reply. She looks at Gulf and winks, then texts something back. 

“I give it thirty minutes,” she says, reaching for a pork rind. 

“Thirty minutes for what, Phi?”

Her smile is enigmatic as she walks away. “Happy birthday to Fai, happy birthday to Fai…" 

Twenty five minutes later, Gulf has a sneaky suspicion P'Eye had something to do with P’Mew walking onto the set. There's no other reason for him to be here, unless it's to see P'Eye. He came to the set the other day, too, after Gulf had already finished his scenes. 

"Camera," P'Mew whispers as he pulls Gulf into a back hug. As if he's ever needed a reason to hold him before. He’s been doing that a lot lately, even though they’ve had skinship for a while now. It’s a reassurance, he supposes. A subtle _no homo_. 

But why does he need to say it now when he didn’t before? 

________________

There's been another reason Gulf's felt alone this week. He doesn't want to admit it to himself. He doesn't want the guilt to keep tormenting him. But what else can he do? They both deserve better than this. And he can't in good conscience keep pretending there's something there when there isn't. 

He stares at his text before he sends it. It's the right thing to do, isn't it? 

** Gulf **

Busy? Can I come over na to talk?

** Khon dii **

Sorry, lots of work. Maybe later? 7-ish?

** Gulf **

Sure

** Khon dii **

...is it what I think it is? 

** Gulf **

I'd rather discuss in person

** Khon dii **

Whatever you decide, yôot duang jai, I'll support it

** Gulf **

Thank you

__________________

Gulf sits in the darkness of his car afterwards. He's still in the parking lot of her condo. What does he do now? Conflicting feelings swirl around in his belly, causing emotional indigestion. Relief. Sadness. Longing. Emptiness. Hope. 

_Hope._

He knows he shouldn't, but his mind drifts to thoughts of P'Mew. What a shitty week it's been. For someone so accustomed to isolation and social distance, he's felt Mew's absence like the loss of a limb. A piece of him that's been missing all this time. But whose fault has it been, really? 

_All he does is talk about you. Did you not know that?_ No, he didn't. He didn't, because he's hardly ever separated from Mew. Is it possible that all this time that he's been missing him, Mew's been missing him back? 

He sighs and pulls out his phone. Perhaps it's time to be brave.

** Gulf **

Is Khun Phi busy tonight? Wanna play video games? 

** Mew **

Sounds good

** Gulf **

I'll text when I get home

There's a text waiting for him when he gets to his condo.

** Khon dii **

Did you get back safely?

** Gulf **

Yes

** Khon dii **

You okay?

** Gulf **

Yes

** Khon dii **

For what it's worth, I think it was the right decision

** Gulf **

It's worth a lot

** Khon dii **

Get some rest na. You have to get up early for work, right?

** Gulf **

Off tomorrow. I have exams

** Khon dii **

Susu na! 

** Gulf **

Thanks

** Khon dii **

Goodnight, yôot duang jai

** Khon dii **

Goodnight

He doesn't go to bed, though. It's the first time he doesn’t want to sleep away his problems. He needs to do something, needs to feel some semblance of normalcy. He needs to kill some fucking video game enemies.

_______________

He's dying. Gulf is dying and his health won't regenerate fast enough to counteract the barrage of bullets flying at him. 

"Where are you?" He growls into his headset. 

Three of his enemies drop dead, and P'Mew's character appears behind them. Gulf has enough health to duck into an alley while Mew finishes off the rest. 

"Sorry na Khrab." P'Mew doesn't sound sincere. He sounds like he's laughing at him. This isn't a laughing matter. He almost died. 

"I don't have a med pack," he grumbles. "I used it the last time you left me without backup." 

P'Mew doesn't hide his laughter this time. "Serves you right for always charging ahead without me."

"You take too long." 

"I've never heard that as a complaint before." 

Gulf's mind travels somewhere dirty, quickly. He swallows hard. His character stands idle, health slowly regenerating on the screen. His anger has evaporated, replaced by a sudden onset of bashfulness. 

"Yai Nong?" 

Gulf's eyes dart around his room. "Khrab?" 

"Do you want my med pack?" 

He breathes out, scratches his head, and pouts a little. "I'm okay khrab. Let's stay here while I regenerate." They reload their weapons, check their inventory, and look ahead on the map. Just a few more streets until the next save point. 

Gulf doesn't mean to sound so harsh when they play video games. He doesn't mean to take it so seriously. He just feels more in control, knowing the right moves to make and the right equipment to use. Like acting. The lines, the blocking, and the props are all there. He just has to control the character. In real life, Gulf has no script or mission objective to follow. He's simply… Gulf. And what if that's not enough?

"Are you ready na, Khun Phi khrab?" He tries to make his voice sound pleasant this time. 

"Oh, you're being so polite na?" Mew's smirk is practically audible. "Does Yai Nong plan to be sweet to me from now on?" 

Gulf's voice resumes its normal tone. "Don't push your luck na, Phi." 

His laugh comes in loud and staticy through the headset. "It's okay khrab. Yai Nong is cute when he's serious."

Gulf chuckles. "Shai, very cute." 

“Complimenting yourself, I see.”

Gulf is thankful that his senior can't see him, can't see the embarrassed look on his face. Where does he find this confidence whenever he’s around his senior? Warmth swirls around his tummy, where P'Mew's hands have a standing reservation. It moves up to his chest and continues up to his cheeks. P'Mew thinks he's cute?

_________________

Gulf feels brave today. He's had a good breakfast, the aircons are on full blast, and his hair looks especially flippy. He approaches P'Mew from behind, easing his arms around his middle. 

The touch startles Mew at first, causing him to glance over his shoulder. "Alai-" he pauses and laughs. "I thought you were a ghost." He pulls on Gulf's arms to tighten them around him. The warmth washes over him, fresh and new.

Gulf smiles, feeling triumphant that his touch has been accepted. He really can’t stand being rejected, especially by his Khun Phi. "Why would a ghost want to hug you?" Under his breath, he mutters, "Whose first thought is a ghost, and not the person he hugs every day?" 

"Aw, you're so mean," whines P'Mew. "Aren't I huggable?" 

Gulf pulls him close and snuggles into his shoulder as a response. Yes, he's very huggable. "You are, now that you're getting fat."

"Aow!" P'Mew turns entirely and seizes Gulf around the waist. "Nong is so cruel to his Phi!" He shakes his stomach up and down. Soon, they're both laughing. Gulf still doesn't know what this warmth is, but he knows that he likes it and that he wants to hold onto it for as long as possible. 


	3. Khun Phi

Gulf sits in P'Mew's lap, entertained by the steady rhythm of _pat pat pat_ on his stomach. P'Mew chats with the crew members and Gulf can only make out bits and pieces of what they're saying. He's not really listening. He's never really listening. P'Mew is always talking and laughing with other people while Gulf sits there with his stomach being rubbed, patted, shaken, or squished. Once upon a time, he tried to keep up with the conversation, but it got exhausting. He prefers to space out while enjoying the warmth of P'Mew's embrace.

The crew members leave to set up and P'Mew pokes his tummy. "Are you leaving first today?" 

"I think so?" 

His senior makes a sound of acknowledgment. "I have a sad scene tonight," he says. "Too bad I won't have Nong Stress Ball with me." He squeezes tightly and lays his head against Gulf's back. 

"I can stay," he volunteers without thinking. He feels P'Mew lift his head. 

"No, you should go home first na." He bounces his knee and readjusts Gulf in his lap. "It will make the sadness easier."

Does that mean he'll miss him? Gulf looks at him over his shoulder. "No, I want to see if P'Mew will cry." He scrunches his nose and smiles. 

"Yai Nong..." P'Mew uses his threatening voice. His senior means it as a joke, but somewhere inside Gulf is a secret part that responds with excitement. It makes him want to be good, to be obedient to his Khun Phi. A very, very secret part.

"Nong Gulf is blushing!" Shouts P'Mild. What is he even doing here? Techno isn't in this scene. Come to taunt him for his lovey dovey smiles again, no doubt. P'Mild has taken on too much of his character.

Gulf is conscious that his eyebrows are furrowed. He tries to smooth them into a look of contempt. "I'm blushing because I'm embarrassed for P'Mew."

Mew makes a dismissive noise. "So stubborn. Nong becomes more like Type every day." How dare he. 

"Well, you know who Type prefers," he warns him. "Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

"And you know who Tharn prefers." 

"Look at him, he's shy." Says P'Mild. "I don't think Yai Nong does any acting on this show. It's just him walking around without a script."

Gulf swats at him with his hand. It's a half-hearted attempt. P'Mild might as well be speaking the truth. Aside from the dialogue and the homophobia, Type seems to react much the same way Gulf would. Confusion. Denial. Frustration. This is what Gulf tends to feel. 

He turns to look at P'Mew. "I'll stay na and be your stress ball."

"Ooooooh!" Teases P'Mild. His noises are echoed by several crew members nearby. Gulf's face flushes from the ever-present warmth, his cheeks hurting from all the smiling.

P'Mew leans in close and gives him a teasing expression. "Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

"That's your problem, not mine." 

___________

The crew is half the size at this hour. Just the necessary personnel for P'Mew's scene at the bar. Gulf watches from the sidelines, clutching his jacket in his hands. His chest aches as he watches tears just barely gather in P'Mew's eyes, somehow making them even more captivating. He feels Tharn's heartache as if it were his own. 

Gulf wonders how he's been able to maintain his composure this whole time. The heated and passionate arguments, the dizzying kisses, and the love scenes that make him harder than he's ever been in his life. Good thing he's already discussed it with P'Mew, or he'd have some awkward explaining to do. Most of all, he wonders how he's been able to survive the cuddles. How does he go home every night with empty arms, feeling so exposed to the world? 

Well, he has to do something about it. He'll have to get better at separating his job from his life. He's not Type, and P'Mew is not Tharn. He watches him say his final line for the night. The pain is still visible on his face as he walks off the set. His arms wrap around Gulf as soon as he reaches him, pulling him close and burying his face in his neck. Gulf rubs his back, bearing the weight of his senior. He can work on separation tomorrow. 

P'Mew pulls away, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. It's only acting and yet it feels so real. Gulf reaches out, using his thumb to dry his cheeks. 

"Careful," P'Mew tells him. "Or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf suppresses a laugh. He holds his senior on either side of his face, staring into his dark and sorrowful eyes. "I'll live."

"Don't break my heart like Type." His eyes look so innocent and large as he laughs. His tone is bittersweet.

How does he respond to such a thing? _I could never do that to you? I would never want to hurt you?_ How cheesy. He scoffs and shoves at his chest. "Don't give me a reason to." 

They leave arm in arm that night, with P'Mew singing softly as they head to the parking lot. It's an old love song, older than P'Mew's time. Gulf loves listening to his voice. It's soft and sincere and gentle. Just like P'Mew. 

"How does Khun Phi do it?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Your scene just now," he explains. "You're so believable. I felt bad, as if I'd actually hurt you." 

He laughs and pulls him closer. "It gets easier the more times your heart is broken." 

Gulf pokes at his chest. "Ah, but you said you never have trouble with girls." 

"Oh?" P'Mew pauses. "I guess I did say that. Well, my car's over there. I'll see you tomorrow." He squeezes Gulf's arm before disengaging himself. 

"Khrab." Gulf watches his senior get into his car. After a second, he lowers his window.

"Yai Nong?"

"Khrab?" 

"Thanks for being my stress ball tonight." 

Gulf salutes him and walks toward his own car. Something nags at him as he drives home. How could P'Mew not have girl troubles but still get his heart broken? 

_______________

Oh. 

It occurs to Gulf one day on set. Tharn and Type are talking about their relationship, about being boyfriends. And it suddenly comes to Gulf. 

P'Mew's had his heart broken by men. 

At least, that's the conclusion Gulf has come to. It's what makes sense. But is it really possible that P'Mew could go that way? As believable as he is in BL, is it because his characters reflect more of his life than Gulf thought? He looks at his senior between takes, studying him for signs of… what? Gayness? He's being naive. 

____________

It was an accident. Sort of. He wasn't trying to be nosy, really he wasn't. He just found it online, that's all. An old Live of P'Mew admitting that he doesn't care about gender when it comes to love. As simple as that. Is this what it means to come out? Is P'Mew… _out?_

Gulf feels weird watching the footage. He knows he shouldn't pry into P'Mew's business, but it's on the damn internet. He's not sure which feels weirder, that he's watching something private, or that P'Mew is talking about someone he loves. Someone he might still love. _I've found the right person_ , he said. And that person isn't him.

Not that it matters to Gulf. Why should he care who P'Mew loves? All he wanted to know was whether he liked men, and now he has an answer. He only wonders if he asked the right question. 

______________

They wait in the hall for lighting and sound to set up. P'Mew is singing again. Another love song, another heartache. He reaches for Gulf's hand and pulls him into his arms. P'Mew sways them back and forth in time to the song, their bodies so close to each other. They way they always are. P'Mew sings softly in his ear as they dance. Gulf's never been good at dancing (as everyone on set likes to remind him), but it feels natural when he's with Mew. 

The crew wolf whistles and howls, and P'Mew jokes about seducing his Nong Stress Ball. 

"Will you give in to hubby?" Someone asks Gulf. 

He shakes his head and smiles. "Khun Phi has to try harder to earn me, khrab." More howls, more cheering. P'Mew's face is red, his eyes so small with laughter. 

Another crew member chimes in. "What's your plan now, P'Mew?" 

He holds a finger to his lips. "Shh! I don't have one!" He gazes into Gulf's eyes, and Gulf can't imagine his senior looking more handsome than in this moment. "How does Yai Nong want to be wooed?"

Well. Gulf looks up in thought. He's never been asked such a thing, not even as a joke. He supposes his suitor ought to prove their worth by showing how well they know him. "Khun Phi should know things about me, like what I like to eat."

"Nong likes to eat P'Mew!" Someone shouts. 

Gulf laughs in spite of himself. "Khun Phi has to earn that, too." His vision blurs with tears from all the laughter. "But! But. Phi should encourage me to try new things, not just what I already like." Everyone makes sounds of approval. They nod their heads and verbalize their agreement. 

"Anything else?" P'Mew asks. His large eyes are curious and amused. Not that he's taking this seriously or anything. Right?

"Phi should like to cuddle and hold me," Gulf answers. 

"Ah…" Mew's eyes turn mischievous. It sends a thrill through Gulf's body. "Have my cuddles not been enough for Yai Nong?" 

Gulf can't hold back his smile. Not when P'Mew is being so flirtatious with him. Not when his eyes are perfect half moons staring into his own. Has he always been so breathtaking? "It's not enough for me," Gulf recites. 

It's a line that Tharn says about the small kiss Type gives him. _It's not enough for me._ Gulf knows that feeling all too well these days. He feels that no touch or embrace from P'Mew will ever be enough to satiate the growing want that's inside him. 

The crew members laugh. "P'Mew, your wifey's using your own lines against you. He's more clever than you are."

P'Mew brushes some stray hairs from Gulf's forehead. "That's why I'm pursuing him." 

"Be careful," Gulf warns, "or you'll make me fall for you." Because he’s starting to wonder if it’s true.

P'Mew shrugs. "Apparently, that's the plan." 

________________

There's a delay with some equipment, and everyone is lounging around the set. Gulf lies on top of Tharn's bed, playing a game on his phone. He knows P'Mew is somewhere nearby, based on the volume of his laughter. Gulf really does love the sound. He looks down at his screen and sees that he's died. Again. 

Mew shuffles over to the bed and climbs onto it. "Phi is sleepy," he murmurs. "Cuddle with me?" He snuggles up to Gulf and rubs his belly. 

Gulf savors the feeling of his senior pressed against him and of P'Mew's hand making circles on his stomach. The warmth radiating from Mew's body matches the warmth flowing inside him. He still doesn't have a proper word for that feeling. Maybe he never will. It's not long before P'Mew's hand stills and Gulf can hear heavy breathing. He looks down at his handsome sleeping face, wishing he could see this sight every day. It's not the first time P'Mew has fallen asleep on him, but this time feels different. Special. It takes Gulf a minute to figure out why. 

There isn't a single camera around.

___________________

P'Tee takes them all out to dinner. The other cast members have saved a seat for Gulf next to P'Mew. _Next to hubby,_ they all said. Gulf doesn't mind in the least. 

P'Tee has ordered a little of everything from the menu and they all help themselves. Gulf isn’t very assertive as people keep reaching for dishes before he can get to them. P'Mew picks up the plate of crispy pork krapow, which only has enough for one more serving. Gulf tries not to look disappointed. He doesn't have to have his favorite dish tonight. 

"Did you think I didn't know?" Asks P'Mew. He serves the last of it onto Gulf's plate. "Yai Nong's favorites are crispy pork krapow and pad see eiw."

P'Mew proceeds to grab the other dish and serve it to Gulf. _Oooohs_ erupt from the cast and crew. P'Mew's eyes are bashful as he spoons the last of the pad see eiw for Gulf. A rushing, tingling sensation runs through his chest and stomach. He's only seen P'Mew look at him that way as Type. Experiencing it now as Gulf makes his cheeks burn and his palms sweat. 

"Yai Nong," calls one of the crew members. "Has P'Mew earned your love yet?" 

Gulf laughs and avoids P'Mew's eyes. "Not yet, khrab," he shouts back. "He hasn't fulfilled all the requirements." 

P'Mild nudges Mew. "Quit wasting time! There are only a few weeks left of filming." He leans in closer. "I've got 1000 baht on the line that you and Yai Nong get together before we air." 

Gulf leans around P'Mew to look at him. "You're betting on us? You've actually become Techno." 

P'Mild laughs and shrugs. "Aow! What can I say? You started a trend!"

Gulf thinks about those words for the rest of dinner. Is P'Mild right? Is he only feeling these things because he's been spending so much time as Type? All the kisses and love scenes were for Type. All the flirting and tender touches were for Type. Even the cuddles and tummy pats were to normalize the physical intimacy as Type. Fanservice as Type. None of it was for Gulf, and at some point he must have forgotten that. 

People linger after dinner. They stand on the sidewalk chatting, joking, taking selfies. P'Run pulls on Gulf's hand to join a group picture. P'Mew takes Gulf's arms and wraps them around his waist. "It looks like Nong could use his own stress ball," Mew says over his shoulder. Gulf can't restrain himself. He rests his cheek on P'Mew's back and squeezes. Even if it's for Type, Gulf will accept the touch. 


	4. Inconstant Moon: Samet Island

Gulf looks out over the sea, willing his stomach to stay calm at each toss and turn of the ferry. The weather has been miserable since they arrived at Ra-Yong Province to film Type's hometown, and now Gulf wonders if he'll have to throw up. 

His father hands him a bottle of water. "You should drink, luk chai." _My son._

Gulf nods and thanks him. He takes small sips, careful not to spill as the boat rocks against the waves. His stomach rises and falls, sending his nausea levels back up. He's never been one for the ocean. 

He wonders if P'Mew is faring any better. Last he saw, his senior was preoccupied with the Run Around With TharnType vlog. Gulf thought the presence of the camera would result in more physical contact (for the fanservice, of course), but P'Mew's been fairly distant this whole time. He didn't even sit with him on the ferry. What kind of fanservice is that? When the boat reaches the shore, Gulf hears someone call his name. He spots his senior already on the dock, laughing and joking with P'Run, who plays P'Seo and hosts the vlog. They wave at Gulf, who's still disembarking the boat. Mew didn't even wait for him. Fanservice indeed. 

"Okay na, luk chai." His mother pulls him in for a hug. "We're going to get some lunch and then head to our hotel. I'm sure you'll want to settle in with everyone else." 

He nods and hugs his father. "Will you come by the resort for breakfast tomorrow?" 

"Only if you want us to." He pats Gulf on the head. "We don't want to get in your way. We're here if you need us." 

"Khrab." He waves goodbye and joins the rest of the cast and crew. 

There's an empty seat next to Mew on the shuttle to the resort. Maybe now they can actually do their duty as a BL couple and show each other some affection. Gulf could certainly use it in his current state of nausea and fatigue. He's been up since 4 am for this trip. He really needs a hug from a certain someone right now. He scoots next to his senior, anticipating his arm to wrap around his shoulders and provide some stability on this unsteady journey. 

"Ah, here we are!" Shouts P'Run. Well, shia. 

P'Mew leans over toward Gulf. "Is Yai Nong okay?" He points at Gulf's clenched fists. 

"Khrab." He opens his hands and hops out of the vehicle. At least they're done with transportation for the day. 

P'Run follows them around the resort, showing off the rooms. P'Mame, in her endless generosity, rented out the entire place for the shoot, which means everyone gets their own room. 

They stand in P'Mew's suite, discussing how romantic it looks, until they notice a throw pillow that says, _I'm not always a bitch. Just kidding, go fuck yourself_. P'Mame shakes her head and giggles. Gulf would laugh if he didn't feel so shitty.

P'Run turns the camera toward him. "Smells so good in here. What do you think about P'Mew's room, Gulf?"

It's nice, he supposes. He hasn't seen his own room yet, but if it's anything like P'Mew's, he'll like it. "The aroma smells nice," he responds. 

P'Mame notices the costume crew's arrival and rushes out to meet them. He can hear P'Run and P'Mew joking as they follow her. 

"I think Gulf is not ready to talk because he looks sleepy. He should take a nap here."

P'Mew nudges him, "Hey, this is my room! Why are you offering it without consulting me?" 

Gulf gives a half-hearted laugh and steps outside. He needs fresh air. He's felt like a little kid this whole time, standing around wearing his stupid retainer, waiting to be noticed by his senior. What is he, an anime character? He needs to be away from the camera. He needs to stop hearing P'Mew's laugh. And yes, he could use a nap. 

By the time he reaches his room, he's barely had time to remove his shoes before he climbs onto his bed. He really ought to shower before getting into it, but he figures it's okay as long as he doesn't get under the covers. It's not like he has a couch or armchair or costar to nap on. 

He lies on the pillows, wondering why he feels so bad. His nausea is gone, as is his headache. But something tugs behind his ribcage, making him feel hollow. Cavernous, practically. And cold. Maybe it's the wind and the rain. He feels like he's encased in ice, detached from everyone and everything. He's been alone for most of this trip, with the occasional crew member taking pity on him and offering conversation. Gulf has found that he's not as charming when he's on his own. He's always been a quiet person until he gets to know someone. Even his parents were preoccupied on the ferry, taking pictures for Gracie and distributing goodie bags of sunblock and aloe lotion to all the cast, crew, and staff. _Never miss an opportunity to show your appreciation_ , his dad always says. 

It's P'Mew, he concludes. That's what's been bothering him. His senior's been treating this whole thing like some kind of vacation. They're supposed to be working, supposed to promote the show through the vlogs. Nobody wants to watch Gulf shakily disembark from a boat. They want to see him in P'Mew's arms. They want to see him in his lap, or holding his hand. They want the skinship, damnit. Not this awkward standing around, making jokes about obscene throw pillows. If anything, P'Mew should have come to nap with him. Let the cameras pick that up and show the fans. Gulf punches his pillow. What a disappointing day. 

__________________

It's dark when Gulf wakes up from his nap. He slept funny, and now his neck hurts. He's freezing, too. He’s always hated the heat, but it turns out he hates cold even more. He also hates how miserable he feels. He hates how childish he's being, sulking around because his senior won't give him the time of day. He's being stupid and he knows it. 

He washes his face and brushes his teeth to get the stale taste out before he heads to dinner. Maybe he'll try to make friends with N'Kaprao, who plays Type's best friend Khom. He's two years younger than Gulf, and for once, Gulf won't be the baby at the table. He seemed nice when they met at the pier. Good looking, too. Tiny, laughing eyes, strong cheekbones, and a thin little mouth always drawn up in a smile. Gulf had enjoyed looking at him during the trip.

Shia. Gulf swallows some toothpaste. He coughs and hacks, ladling handfuls of water into his mouth. Since when did he check out other guys like this? P'Mew doesn't count. He's as close as anyone can get to an actual Prince Charming, so he's practically a free pass. But now Kaprao? 

Well, there were also the boys at school. But they shouldn't count, either. All teenage boys check each other out. That's just adolescence, isn't it? And when you attend an all boy school like Gulf did, who else are you going to look at? Was he supposed to go all those years without admiring anyone? It's not his fault that some of his seniors were exceptionally handsome. It's not like he wanted to date them or anything. He admired them, that's all.

And perhaps that's all this is. He admires Kaprao's good looks. He's quite handsome, after all. So friendly looking. Gulf decides that he will make friends with him tonight. Type and Khom were best friends since childhood, after all. 

____________

There's an empty seat next to P'Mew at dinner, presumably saved for him, but Gulf ignores it. He finds N'Kaprao at the end of the table, laughing and chatting excitedly with P'Pee from the costume crew. Gulf remembers earlier on the vlog when Pee suggested that Mew sleep with him in his room. He often flirts with P'Mew on set. Gulf enjoys watching their exchanges and seeing how far P'Pee will go. 

"Nong Nong Nong!" P'Pee waves him over. "Come join us for the gossip, you handsome boy." He bats his eyelashes at him. 

Gulf feels his first real smile of the day. P'Pee is always fun. He takes a seat across from Kaprao and greets Pee with Wai.

"Here, have some rice and pork krapow na kha," says P'Pee. Gulf likes the way he uses the feminine ending of kha instead of khrab. A lot of gay men tend to do that, and Gulf has always found it pleasant sounding. His smile widens as he spoons some krapow onto his plate.

Kaprao leans across the table. "We thought you might sleep through dinner. We almost sent P'Mew to get you." He chuckles and hands him a platter of pad see eiw. 

"Can you imagine it na kha?" P'Pee rubs his hands together. "Precious Yai Nong asleep in his bed as the handsome and delicious Khun Phi enters and wakes him with a stolen kiss." He brings a hand to his chest and swoons. 

Kaprao laughs and Gulf finds that he rather likes the sound. His voice is low and deep for someone their age, especially compared to Gulf's tinny, sometimes nasal sounding voice. His friends from high school used to say he sounded like a duck. He bets Kaprao never had that problem. He bets girls like to compliment him on his voice. 

The gossip turns out to be about P'Tee getting lost on the way back from town this afternoon. Gulf tries his best to follow along, but his mind is distracted. He watches Nong Kaprao across from him, noting the way his eyes shrink to near slivers when he laughs, which is often. Gulf makes a few more jokes than he normally would just to hear and see him laugh some more. 

"Who's seen my boyfriend?" P'Mew's voice carries over the table. A dozen or so heads snap in Gulf's direction, followed by an assortment of teasing noises. He smiles and makes Wai. 

P'Mew pouts. "Type…" he nags. "Why didn't you sit with me na? I saved a seat for my boyfriend." Sounds of pity make their way down the rows of people. 

Gulf arches an eyebrow. "If Tharn were a more attentive boyfriend, he would have noticed that Type arrived half an hour ago." 

Well, now he's done it. A chorus of _uh-oh_ and _oooooh, you're in trouble_ echos back to P'Mew. 

His senior rises from his seat and makes Wai. "Sorry na khrab. Maybe Tharn can make it up to Type tonight in his room?" 

Hoots and hollers erupt from the peanut gallery. A few people start chanting, Tharntype! Tharntype! Gulf is laughing, despite the weird feeling in his belly. He's still cold all over, but something struggles to ignite inside him. He imagines a weather broadcast where a cold front meets a warm front. It seems his stomach is full of fog. 

He smirks back at his Khun Phi. "How presumptuous of Tharn to assume Type is always available for him. Can't you see we're at my home? If you need me, I'll be catching up with my best friend, Khom." He nods in Kaprao's direction. 

His nong's eyes widen. "Don't bring me into this! I'm not a homewrecker!" He laughs as the others tease him. 

P'Mew wipes the tears in his eyes from laughing too hard. He gestures with his hands for everyone to quiet. "Khrab, khrab. Let's not discuss this in front of everyone na." He chuckles and walks over to him. Conversation resumes around them. 

"P'Mew khaaaaa," coos P'Pee. He runs his hand down Mew's arm. "If Nong Gulf is busy with Nong Kaprao this evening, you're welcome to hang out in my room." 

P'Mew pats him on the shoulder. "If I get too jealous, I just might." He motions toward Kaprao. "How can I compete with such a handsome young man? One look at Nong, and it's no wonder my boyfriend abandoned me." He pretends to cry into Pee's shoulder. P'Pee is all too happy to comfort him and stroke his hair. 

Kaproa gives a good natured laugh and shakes his head. "P'Mew is too kind na khrab," he says with a small Wai. "But there's no competition. P'Mew is more handsome khrab." The four of them nod to acknowledge the exchange of compliments. Gulf wants to roll his eyes.

Gulf doesn't know how to feel. Finally having his senior's attention doesn't feel nearly as good as he thought it would. The other three men talk together while he zones out as usual. He's never any good with small talk or chit chat. He glances at Kaprao and gives him a small smile. P'Mew must have seen, because he stops talking. 

"P'Mew khaaaaa?" Pee shakes his arm. "What were you saying?" 

P'Mew meets Gulf's eyes, and something passes between them. It's not clear and it's not definable, but it's something. A vague understanding of sorts that leaves Gulf feeling colder and emptier than before. He feels as if something is slipping away, dissipating like smoke, but he doesn't know what. 

"Khrab," says P'Mew, patting P'Pee on the shoulder. "We should let them work. They have their scenes tomorrow. Tell me more about P'Tee getting lost?" He leads Pee to the refreshment table for drinks. 

Gulf watches them go, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of his belly. He looks back at Kaprao. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he says with a grin. 

His nong beams back. "Khrab." 


	5. Inconstant Moon: P'Gulf

They walk along the pathway leading down to the beach. The night air is chilly after all the wind and rain, but they're determined to make it to the sand at least. They figure the walk will warm them up. 

"I just don't see how he didn't know," says Kaprao. "Even if Type was traumatized, wouldn't he have recognized in himself that he was gay?" 

"Do you think he was in denial?" 

"Possibly. He's so vocal about hating gays. Maybe he was overcompensating?" 

Gulf pauses to lean against a tree. Is it so hard to believe that Type couldn't see it? "I don't think he knew he was gay until he was already in love with Tharn." It made so much sense to him when he thought of it, but did he make the wrong call? 

His junior shrugs and joins him against the trunk. "Wouldn't you know if you were attracted to men?" 

The question, as reasonable as it seems, strikes Gulf as unfair. Is anyone ever aware of which gender they're attracted to, or are these expectations thrust upon them by society to the point where they never consider that maybe… maybe there was another option all along? Maybe they mistook their feelings as something different without realizing it. 

He kicks at the dirt and shrugs. "Maybe he couldn't tell the difference between being attracted to men and simply recognizing that some men are attractive." 

Kaprao makes a noise of agreement. "I guess if you're gay, then it feels natural to admire the same sex. You don't see that you're different until you realize straight men don't check each other out." 

"Well, besides adolescence," Gulf adds. "Everyone does that." 

Kaprao laughs and nudges his arm. "Are you speaking as Type na? I guess he would assume such a silly thing." 

"Alai na?" _What?_ Is that silly?

Kaprao nods. "It makes sense that Type never realized the way he looked at other boys was not how other boys looked at each other."

Huh.

______________

The wind is calm when they reach the sand. They use their phones to see in the dark and make their way across the beach. Kaprao chases the water to wet his feet and shrieks at the cold. 

He runs back up to Gulf and shivers."Okay, don't do what I just did." 

Gulf laughs at his nong. Despite the heaviness in his chest, he's still having a good time. He turns off his flashlight app and looks up at the half moon. It reminds him of P'Mew's eyes when he smiles, shining and bright and mesmerizing. He misses seeing his eyes like that. P'Mew wore sunglasses almost all day, and the one time they made eye contact was that awkward moment at dinner. 

Gulf grumbles and mutters under his breath. "Ignores me all day and expects me to run to his side like a lap dog." 

Kaprao chuckles and picks up a few seashells. "He missed you this afternoon." 

"Khrab?" 

"Ooh, look at this one!" He shows him a tiny spiral shell. "You were talking about P'Mew, right? After you went to nap, he was very quiet the rest of the day." 

Gulf shrugs. "Everyone felt shitty after all the travel." It doesn't mean anything. 

"He didn't seem sick." Kaprao walks in a circle to look for more shells. "Just… calmer. Less talkative. He kept looking around, like he was hoping you'd show up." 

Gulf is thankful for the darkness. He's sure his ears are turning pink, even if he doesn't believe it's true. "How do you know he was looking for me?" 

"You were the only one who was gone all afternoon. Even P'Tee found his way back before sunset!" He laughs, tossing a shell in the air and catching it. "I think I'll bring this one for my girlfriend. What do you think, Phi?"

Gulf looks at the seashell in Kaprao's hand. It's another spiral one, but with a purplish color. He nods. "Khrab. I think she'll like it." 

He wonders if he should bring one for P'Mew. He decides against it. P'Mew can get his own damn shell. He can vlog about it if he wants. His stomach feels sour now and he glares up at the half moon. 

"P'Mew's very thoughtful, isn't he?" Asks Kaprao. 

"Hm?" 

"It was his idea to get a seashell for my girlfriend. I was going to buy one on a necklace for her in town, but he said it would be more romantic if I found one myself." 

"Khrab."

"He's very good to his juniors, I think."

"Khrab." 

"Ah, you don't know, do you?" Kaprao smiles at him. "On the ferry, he kept the vlog crew away from you because you were seasick. He said we should focus on other people so you wouldn't be bothered."

He looks back down at his nong. "He did?"

"Mm. And when everyone started dinner, he asked if they could save some krapow and pad see eiw for you because they're your favorites." 

"Really?" 

"He also saved your seat close to the aircon because he says you get hot so easily. He almost had to fight P'Kob for it!" He laughs but stops short. "I guess he didn't need to, since you sat with us instead." 

The sour feeling in his gut gets worse. He kicks at the sand and scratches his head. Shia. He really has been acting like a child, hasn't he? All this time, feeling like his senior was neglecting him, but he was looking out for him all along. Does this mean he's been… jealous? Jealous for P'Mew's attention, as if he were some lovesick high schooler who wanted Senpai to notice him? Then, does that mean he's…

Lovesick? 

He looks down at the fresh sand he kicked up. Next to his toe is a pearlescent shell shaped like a sanay chan dessert. He picks it up and looks at it with his phone light. 

Kaprao peeks over his shoulder. "Cool, a moon shell!" 

"Moon shell?" A smile spreads across Gulf’s face. "I was just thinking it looked like sanay chan, too." 

"The wedding dessert? It means the charming moon or something, right?" 

"Khrab." He rubs his thumb across the pearly exterior. The charming moon. He couldn't have picked a better name himself. "It's perfect." He heads to the water to wash it off. 

"Wait, Phi! The water-"

"Shia! It's freezing!" 


	6. Inconstant Moon: So Hot

Gulf hears a guitar underneath the sounds of laughter and chatter. He and Kaprao have made it back to the bungalows, and the scent of citronella candles welcomes them to the courtyard. A few people are still awake, drinking beers and talking. P'Mame and P'Pee are gushing over something on their phones and P'Run seems to be teasing P'Tee about his misadventure. P'Mew sits on top of a picnic table at the far end of the courtyard with his guitar. His back is turned to everyone and he looks out into the darkness of the trees while he strums. 

Kaprao taps Gulf on the arm. "I'm gonna see what P'Mame and P'Pee are up to. Thanks for the adventure na khrab!" He waves and walks off. 

Gulf swallows hard and looks back at P'Mew. His stomach feels like a frozen cave, hollow and cold. He doesn't want to feel like this anymore. He hates being hot, but he misses being warm. And he knows only one person can make him feel that way. 

It's a sad love song that P'Mew is playing. It's so old that everyone in Thailand knows it. A classic that spans generations. It's about unrequited love and Gulf wonders why P'Mew chose to play it. All he can see of his senior is his back but even from this angle he looks so sad in the yellow glow of the string lights and candles. He doesn't even seem to notice Gulf. With a sigh, he ruffles his hair and sets down his guitar. 

"Sawadee-khrab, Khun Phi." 

Mew's back stiffens. He glances over his shoulder at Gulf and chuckles. "Nong is so formal all of a sudden." 

Gulf can't say he's sorry, not without explaining everything he's been feeling throughout this awful, confusing day. If he starts talking, he'll never stop. His thoughts always come tumbling out of his mouth, and right now he doesn't want to talk anymore. He slips his arms around P'Mew's waist and rests his head upon his back. He shuts his eyes, hoping his senior won't reject his touch, because wouldn't that just be the perfect ending to this shit day? But even as the anxiety floods his mind, he's reminded that his senior is P'Mew, and that P'Mew wouldn't do something like that. As this thought occurs to him, he feels his hand cover his own. 

"You know," says P'Mew. "I've felt cold all day until just now." 

"Me too." 

He laughs and pats his hand. "What's this?" 

Gulf opens it to show him the moon shell. "I found it on the beach. What do you think?" 

P'Mew pokes it with his finger. "It's making me hungry. Looks like sanay chan, doesn't it?" 

Gulf squeezes him. "Khrab. It's for you. Consider it a midnight snack. It won't make you fat." 

He groans and hunches over so Gulf is pulled tighter around him. His laughter shakes them both. "So cruel to your Phi!" He releases him and comes around the table to sit on the bench. 

Gulf holds out the moon shell. "Do you want it or not?" 

P'Mew smiles, turning his eyes into perfect half moons. Gulf imagines a fire roaring to life in his chest, filling the frozen cave with an orange glow and that blessed warmth he's been missing all day. 

"Yes," says P'Mew. He tugs on Gulf's hand and pulls him into his lap. The familiar pressure of his hands at his belly makes him melt into the touch. 

They stay like this for a while. P'Mew fills him in on everything he missed while he napped. Gulf finally hears the bits of P'Tee's story that he zoned out on during dinner. 

By the time Gulf settles into bed, he feels toasty and squishy and altogether happy. He snuggles under his covers and smiles. A random memory from today comes back to him.

"I'm not always a bitch. Just kidding, go fuck yourself." He laughs out loud. "That's hilarious." 

_________________

Kaprao bounces around the set, reciting his lines and playing with the seashell for his girlfriend. He and Gulf have their scenes soon. They're relatively short, and Gulf feels bad that Kaprao has such a small part. At least he got to come to Samet Island and stay at the resort. 

His nong jogs over to him and shakes his head. "Khom must be one hell of a guy to put up with Type all those years." 

Gulf nods. "Type can be quite the dumbass." 

Kaprao throws an arm over his shoulder. "Lucky he has this lovely reunion to get his act together." 

Kaprao notices P'Mame and calls her over. "Khun Mame khrab, can you rewrite the party scene so that Khom punches Type for being a jackass?" 

She shakes her head and laughs. "I wish, but you know Type wouldn't learn his lesson that way. It would just make him more stubborn. He needs to discover things for himself and reflect on them for a while." 

Gulf’s ears are burning. He steps away to grab a bag of pork rinds. He knows they're talking about Type, but he can't help but feel exposed.

Kaprao chuckles. "Is that why he talks to himself all the time?" 

P'Mame nods. "Exactly. He has to express everything he thinks and feels, or it doesn't exist." 

Gulf shoves three large pork rinds in his mouth, one after the other. He reminds himself that they're not talking about him. 

"Well, I guess that's why he's got Khom to get him to face the facts." He nudges her with his elbow. "Thanks na khrab for writing him." 

P'Mame makes a noise of agreement. "Kha. Khom's part is pivotal to Type's acceptance of gays and his realization that he himself is gay." She points to Kaprao. "The first thing he notices when he sees Khom after all this time is how handsome he is." 

Gulf swallows with a large gulp. Why does this remind him of last night, choking on toothpaste in his bathroom when he realized he had been checking out Kaprao? 

His junior strikes a pose. "Just call me the Gay Whisperer." Gulf throws a pork rind at him. 

P'Mame laughs but she nods again. "It's important that Type recognizes it's not just Tharn he finds attractive, but that he's attracted to men in general. When he finds himself checking out his friend, he realizes he's been admiring men his whole life." 

Like when he remembered all the boys in high school he'd- hell, he even used the word admired, too. Shia. Gulf chokes on his food. P'Mame yelps and smacks him hard on the back. Masticated pork rinds spew out of his mouth and land on Kaprao's shirt. The look he gives Gulf is something like, _did that truth hit a little too close to home?_ Gulf pretends he didn't see. 

_________________

P'Mew is doing crunches. The upright kind with his legs extended. The bastard isn't even struggling, he's just gracefully sitting forward and backward, driving Gulf out of his mind. He can't stop thinking about his abs underneath that shirt, the way they felt beneath his fingers. Has he always paid this much attention to P'Mew's body? Has it always made him feel so shy? God, his legs are so long. And the vloggers are filming it, which means he can go online and watch it anytime he wants and dear God, just make it stop. 

Gulf stretches out on Type's bed and makes little stretchy noises. He needs to stop watching his senior. The camera pans to him and he gives them a lazy smile. His shirt is creeping up his stomach, but he's too relaxed to fix it. It's just a little on the side, anyway. At least he doesn't have to do crunches to get his muscles pumped up for the camera. He's got no abs to worry about. It's the nice thing about being a BL bottom. You don't need a hot body like P'Mew, just a pretty face. And, well, Gulf knows what he's working with. 

"Ay, P'Mew!" Someone shouts. Gulf looks at his senior to find him with a small trail of red coming from his nose. Mew wipes at it and looks at his fingers. 

P'Pee rushes to him with a tissue. "P'Mew is so sexy he turned himself on!" He fans himself as P'Mew sits up. 

P'Run points at Gulf. "No, it was Yai Nong! Look, his shirt is pulled up!"

Gulf yanks down his shirt. How sexy could it have been in the first place? "Don't make up stories, there's nothing to see but some baby fat." 

P'Mew makes a pitiful noise. "Can I get more tissue, please?" 

P'Pee claps his hands and rushes to fetch the box. But not before adding, "We all know how P'Mew feels about Gulf's tummy!" 

P'Pee brings back more tissues and a towel with ice. P'Mew takes it and joins Gulf on the bed. He doesn't even have to ask, he just knows to lie back and rest his head in Gulf's lap. Mew knows he'll be there to comfort him. Ever since the other night, things feel like they're back to normal. P'Mew went back to holding him and squishing his tummy. They even held hands at lunch. The winds at Samet Island have died down, and everything feels warm again. 

Gulf takes the towel from him and holds it to his nose. "Khun Phi shouldn't overdo it na with the exercise," he chides. 

P'Mew waves off his concern. "The salty air is getting to my sinuses, that's all." 

"You were showing off, that's all." 

He laughs and looks up at him. "Did it work? Were you impressed?" 

Gulf rolls his eyes. "I'd be more impressed if you had done it without leaking bodily fluids."

"Maybe I'll take off my shirt next time and let Yai Nong get the nosebleed first." 

Alai wa? Gulf smacks his senior on the forehead. "Khun Phi…" he imitates Mew's threatening voice. "Behave yourself." 

"Or you'll fall for me?" 

"Or you'll give P'Pee a heart attack." 

"Oh, I don't have a heart anymore," says P'Pee. He's ironing bed sheets, but he looks over and smirks. "Because I gave it to P'Mew." He blows him a kiss. 

P'Mew pretends to catch it and sticks it in his pocket. "Yes, I use it as decoration on my bookcase. It's very pretty." 

P'Pee nods. "I bedazzled it." 

_________________

P'Pee undoes another of Gulf's shirt buttons. "There na. I can't make you look any gayer without being too obvious." 

Gulf looks down at his exposed chest. There's glow in the dark paint written on his skin and more on his face. It's the Full Moon Party scene, and according to the script, Type has to look _so hot_. Except it’s not really a full moon out due to the filming schedule, and Gulf isn’t really _so hot_. He can't imagine himself ever being hot, let alone _so hot_. He tries, though. Magazines and photoshoots want him to look sexy sometimes, and he's able to copy what male models do. A favorite of his is P'God, who played Phana in the first 2Moons. Now that's hot. He supposes he could do it on screen, too. The open shirt should help. It's only in real life that he feels thoroughly un-hot. Cute. Pretty. Shy. This is what Gulf can pull off. 

The foreigner's name is Jei Lo. He's from Russia, but his Thai is pretty good. His English is even better, and Gulf enjoys getting to practice with him. 

Gulf tries to find the words in English. He gestures with his hand. "I think maybe Type is feel like he is… displayed to other gays? Like, they can see he is like them." 

Jei purses his lips. "Displayed… like exposed?"

Gulf nods. "Yes. Exposed. They can see he is gay, even if he cannot see it." 

Jei clinks their prop beer bottles together. "That, my friend, is what they call gaydar." 

"Gaydar." Gulf test the word out. He repeats it a few times. "The word is sound cute to me. Almost like Thai word." 

Between takes, Kaprao leans across the table. "Someone came to check out your hot look." He points discreetly at P'Mew standing by the camera. 

Gulf's eyes widen and dart around the room. What's he supposed to do now? Why does he feel shy all of a sudden? He's done a shower scene with him where they were both shirtless, so why is this different? 

Is it that _he's_ different? That _they're_ different? 

P'Mew walks over while lighting adjusts some of the lamps. "Hmm…" he leans in to whisper in his ear. "You look so enticing tonight, Tua-aeng." _My darling_. 

Something flutters in Gulf's stomach. The hairs on his neck stand up, and he closes his eyes to savor it. Tua-aeng. Nobody's ever called him that. 

P'Mew is speaking to Type, of course. Not Gulf. He has to remember that. He even has Tharn written on his neck in glow in the dark paint to remind Gulf that it's not P'Mew who's flirting with him. 

Mew runs his finger along the opening of Gulf's shirt, right at the edge of where fabric meets skin. "You'll dress like this for strangers, but not your faen?" _Boyfriend_. 

Gulf swallows hard. He brushes P'Mew's hand aside. "I can dress how I want. You get to see me without clothes." 

Kaprao clears his throat. "I'm gonna get more fake beer. You two continue to eye fuck." 

P'Mew chuckles and returns his attention to Gulf. "Well, now that that's done, how are you?" 

He shrugs and looks down at his open shirt. "Honestly, I feel a little slutty." 

"Oh?" 

Gulf gives him a look that he hopes is enticing. "Yeah, and I kind of like it." He hops down from his stool and walks off. 

At the last minute he looks back at P'Mew. He stands there, looking spellbound with his mouth open. Shia, did he just pull that off?

__________________

P'Mew sits with him on the ferry back to the mainland. Gulf suspects he won't feel as seasick with him by his side. Already his senior has placed an arm around his shoulder. 

"They said it was football themed, and I really like fried chicken, so you know I was all for it." Gulf laughs and leans against his shoulder. "I was so excited when I got the part. I never expected an international brand like KFC- alai na? Why are you smiling like that, Phi?" 

Mew's grin widens and he shakes his head. "Nothing, just… no, nothing."

"Aow. I don't like being left out." 

He tightens his arm around Gulf. "It's just, you're only like this after we make up. You don't talk about yourself a lot, so it's nice when you finally do." 

Well, shia. Make him blush why dontcha. He squirms in Mew's embrace. "We didn't talk for almost a whole day, so…" he shrugs, trying not to pout. And he only talks about himself then because he knows Mew likes learning about him. It’s his way of saying sorry, by opening up to him and sharing more parts of himself.

"Does this mean Yai Nong missed me?" 

What a thing to ask. As if he would admit to it. As if Mew didn't already know. Because of course he missed him. It was almost an entire day. Gulf wasn't even awake for all of it and it still sucked. Didn't Mew miss him back? 

"Does this mean Khun Phi missed me, too?"

They stare at each other. It's a Mexican standoff, guns drawn, neither of them willing to admit it. Who's going to pull the trigger first and confess? 

"Of course I did, Yai Nong." 

_Bang._

__________________

They linger at the dock while the rest of the crew disembarks. Mew wanted to watch the KFC ad. His hand rests at Gulf's neck and that tiny bit of skin-to-skin contact is exhilarating. He's not even paying attention to himself on the screen, even though P'Mew seems enthralled. Gulf can only focus on how close his senior is, how he leans in to watch, and how warm his hand is. The vlog is still filming them. What would happen if he reached out and initiated more touch? He's made the first move before. Would P'Mew reject him in front of P'Run's crew? Surely not. 

In the end, Gulf keeps his hands to himself. He does this despite the ache in his arms and the tingling in his fingers. He suppresses the want that’s been growing stronger each day. A want for more than just cuddles and belly squishes and the fluttering in his stomach. A want that feels more primal and feral. It feels like hunger, and Gulf is ravenous.


	7. Sanay Chan

First they had his shirt open. Now he's not even wearing pants. Type's costumes have become a lot more interesting lately. Gulf looks at himself in the mirror. The shirt is enormous. P'Pee had to sew it himself because they couldn't find one long enough. And with a shirt like this, it has to fit just right, just big enough to make him look cute but not too big that it's comical. It has to be a tease. 

P'Pee checks the hem. "P'Mew's going to have another nosebleed when he sees you in this." 

Gulf doesn't know about that, but he does hope it makes an impression. He wants P'Mew to go home thinking about him in this shirt. 

"Are you sure it looks okay na khrab?" He tugs on the sleeves to pull them over his palms. He's seen enough yaoi to know that tops roll their sleeves up and bottoms have them over their hands. Not that he watches BL for the sake of watching BL. He just knows things, okay? 

Okay, he watches some BL. SOTUS was good. Who doesn't like Krist and Singto? And he hasn't watched Puppy Honey, but he likes OffGun Fun Night. Those guys are hilarious. And, well, Love By Chance for research. They already had a Type, so he wanted to check him out. P'Earth was so masculine in the role, so it was nice seeing a break from the stereotype. He liked P'Earth's portrayal of an older, more mellowed out Type. A mature Type. And so it made sense for him to watch P'Earth in his other shows, like Waterboyy and Theory of Love. Is it his fault that Thailand makes some quality BL?

He grumbles to himself. "Fangirls can like BL, so can I." 

"You tell 'em, thilak," says P'Pee. 

Gulf really needs to stop talking to himself. Especially since people can always hear him. He'd say it's a habit he picked up from Type, but this is something he's done his whole life. Yet another thing he and his character have in common. P'Mild's words taunt him, _Nong doesn't actually act on the show. It's just Gulf walking around without a script._

P'Mew is running late. There was some kind of accident on the freeway, so he's stuck in traffic. Gulf lounges around the set in his boyfriend shirt. It's quite comfy, and he wonders if they'll let him keep it. Different cast and crew members ask for pictures. He poses for a few of them, trying his best to look the part. Coy. Innocent. Enticing . This is what Gulf is trying to learn. 

He musters the courage to lean in toward P'Pee. "Phi khrab," he looks around to make sure nobody is listening. "Can you teach me to be seductive?" 

It's not that Gulf hasn't tried. He's been trying since workshop. But seduction is not something in Gulf's repertoire. He's watched movies and TV shows to copy what both men and women have done. The end result feels disingenuous. None of it feels like Type.

P'Pee's eyes light up. "Oh, my darling boy…" he looks him up and down. "Don't you worry. P'Pee will show you what to do." 

It's not just about teasing, P'Pee tells him, it's about _teasing_. And Gulf will need to use his whole body to pull this off. 

He thinks about the way Type moves. Gulf always uses short, quick movements as Type: sharp jerks of the head, punctuated shoves to the chest, slapping Techno in rhythm. Type moves the way he talks- abruptly, aggressively, and intentionally. 

Most of all, Type likes to move his head. It's what Gulf decided would be Type's leading center, as they called it in workshop. It's what drives him into any situation. Not because he thinks with his head, but because he's hot headed. It's where all his emotions live. Type doesn't use a lot of hand gestures; the turning, nodding, or tilting of his head is what emphasizes his words. And everything you need to know about his emotions are on full display in his facial expressions. It's why he has to turn away from Tharn when he smiles. The boy can't control his face.

Gulf doesn't want to change Type just to make him sexy. It wouldn't be sincere and Type would never do that. Rather, he takes Type's movements and smoothes out the edges, slows them down. Not quite Type in slow-mo. More like Type giving Tharn an extended edition, director's cut of his favorite show- Type being Type. In the end, the answer was right in front of him. Be Type, but give Tharn time to appreciate it.

P'Pee nods and gestures for him to go on. "Okay, show me."

Gulf goes through his blocking, appearing around the corner, looking cooly expectant, and walking to the center of the room. He says his lines, stretching the words out and making his voice soft and silky. 

P'Pee may actually be holding his breath. "And remember the eyes, cherub. Open them slowly." 

Gulf nods. This was the hardest technique for him to learn. Blinking isn't something he's used to taking his time with. He shuts his eyelids and draws them up as slowly as he can stand, all while keeping his eyes soft. Sultry, is how P'Pee described it. 

"Sloooowly, yes that's it, honey. Sultry, my little kitten, sultry." He raises an eyebrow. "Remember, you're seducing P'Mew. Romantic men like him like to play the strong protector, but secretly they want to be brought down to their knees and made to beg." 

"Phi!" 

He shushes him. "You know I'm right. Cute is only part of what gets them going. They also want to be challenged. They want someone to take control so that they can fight to regain it. Understand?" 

"Khrab." Gulf squirms around in his giant shirt. "Phi khrab?" 

"Kha?" 

"Thanks. It's just for the scene, you know?"

"Kha." P'Pee winks and pats his face. "I'll let you practice for your _scene._ " 

By the time P'Mew finally arrives, there's no time for a final rehearsal. Gulf is already on the set, so they're set to film as soon as P'Mew finishes with hair and makeup. The first time they'll see each other is on the first take. 

Gulf fidgets behind the bathroom door. He's been on edge ever since he asked P'Pee for help. How is he supposed to pull this off? How is he supposed to seduce P'Mew? Err… Tharn. How is Type supposed to seduce Tharn? 

Well, that's easy. Suddenly thinking about it as Type, the seduction makes more sense. Gulf and his character are a lot alike, but Gulf can never in a million years match Type's confidence. Tharn told him he was sexy and hot, so he went and found the biggest shirt in Thailand to seduce his hubby. Type is all about the tease. Holding back and making Tharn work for his affection, which seems to drive him crazy in the best way. 

_They all secretly want to be brought down to their knees and made to beg._

It's Gulf who takes a deep breath, but it's Type who lets it out. This is going to be fun. 

_________________

P'Tee calls action. Type steps out of the bathroom and into the main living area. Now or never, right? Tharn arrives at the same time and pauses. He stares at Type, his eyes drinking in the sight of him, a tiny smile just barely forming on his lips. It's all acting, of course. P'Mew did the same thing in workshop. Gulf is aloof as Type, making his way toward the couch to meet Tharn.

Except P'Mew isn't moving. He continues to stand there, staring at him, his mouth gone slack. Did the outfit make an impression after all?

"Mew, your blocking," says P'Tee. 

Mew shakes his head and blinks. "Sorry na khrab." He looks around as if he's just seeing the crew for the first time. "Still out of it from the traffic, I guess." He goes back to his mark for take two. 

And three. 

Gulf sees P'Tee lean over to his assistant director. "Okay, you were right na khrab." He grabs his walkie and speaks into it. "P'Pee, can we get a pair of boxer shorts in here? Yes, I know you warned me. No, bring the longer boxers. Yes, it's that bad." 

P'Pee brings Gulf a pair of boxer shorts to wear under his shirt. They feel loose over the short, skin tight boxer-briefs they made him wear so it wouldn't be seen under the shirt.

P'Pee shakes his head at Gulf. "Passed your hubby on the way in. What did you do to that poor boy?"

Alai wa? "Nothing! I walked over to my mark. We didn't even get to dialogue."

P'Pee looks down at his costume. "Can I sew a sex shirt or what?" He snaps his fingers. "I'm gonna stick around and see how he responds to that eye trick I taught you." He wiggles his fingers at Gulf as a goodbye wave. 

They get through the blocking, thanks to the boxers. Gulf isn't sure how that extra inch of coverage changed anything, but fine. Tharn finally meets Type by the couch. "You're late," says Type. Truer words were never spoken.

P'Mew's looking at him like he's a meal, but at least he's getting through his dialogue. Tharn and Type haven't seen each other for a month, so it's only natural that they're… what did Kaprao call it? Eye fucking. Gulf feels a rush in his gut that spreads through his entire body. That is definitely what they're doing.

Tharn touches the shirt. "What are you wearing?" 

Type leans forward and gives a singular bat of his eyelashes. "Well… your welcome home gift."

Tharn looks like he's in pain. Good thing they're shooting Gulf's closeups first. He yanks Type toward him and they kiss. Softly at first, as if to say _hello, I missed you._ But god, how they missed each other. The kiss continues, and Gulf can feel the restraint his senior is exerting as he lets Gulf break away to continue the scene. When they part, Gulf doesn't need to focus on the technique P'Pee taught him. It happens on its own. Gulf keeps his eyes closed to savor the moment, to pretend it's P'Mew who can't wait to tear into him. Only then does he open his eyes and look at him from under his lashes. 

Gulf can hear a hitch in P'Mews breathing. It sends his stomach fluttering. Even if it's P'Mew's acting, he'll let the make believe delude him. The better to play Type, the better to translate the overwhelming feelings that want to burst out of him and offer themselves to P'Mew and have them captured on camera as Type's love for Tharn. 

The same painful expression crosses Mew's face, followed by something Gulf knows all too well ever since Samet. Hunger.

They do a few more takes from different angles before they move on to the next part. Mew finally seems to have his shit together and can get through the dialogue with much milder facial expressions. Gulf feels less tense now that his co-star seems to have calmed down.

Now to fall onto the bed and make out. 

They tumble onto the mattress together. Holy shit, P'Mew is hard. Well, stiff. Getting hard. How long has this been going on? They haven't even started kissing. Gulf gets the feeling he's going to lose himself in this scene. He can feel the warmth pumping through his veins, stronger and stronger, and rising in temperature. 

Tharn strokes his hair and they smile at each other. Gulf could look at that smile forever. Perfect half moon eyes stare back at him and they close as Tharn leans down for a kiss. Even in the heat of this exchange, the kiss is tender. A love kiss. And when the other kisses come, Tharn is all over him. He travels down the full expanse of his neck, as far as the shirt collar will allow. Type shuts his eyes, arching his back, breath coming out in ragged gasps. He's starting to get hard, too. It wouldn't be the first time they've practically dry humped on camera. 

Did Gulf just feel teeth against his skin? Did P'Mew almost bite him? He grabs at Tharn's shirt and the back of his neck, almost encouraging him to continue. It's not the first time teeth have accidentally come into play, but each time Gulf is even more convinced that he's into it. Something about the sweetness of Mew's kisses, punctuated by the sharpness of his bite, makes his blood race and his toes curl. 

Tharn comes back to his lips and it's a little different. Gulf feels something tugging at him in the kiss, a need that's never been there before. He can feel it in the way his kisses threaten to bruise his lips and he can feel it against his thigh. 

"Cut khrab," says P'Tee. "Let's tone it down na? Remember the rating. Lighting, can we get some adjustment near the bed? We've got a dark spot." 

P'Mew looks down at Gulf, slightly out of breath. "Sorry na khrab," he whispers. He shifts his weight to wipe the sweat from his brow. At least this set has quiet aircons. 

Gulf avoids eye contact. "Me too. I got a little too into character." 

His senior laughs and fans his shirt out. P'Mew smells like sporty antiperspirant and fancy cologne. The really expensive kind. "I got a lot into character." He tugs at the white shirt. "P'Pee knows how to dress a man for seduction."

Huh. Did P'Mew just let something slip? That he knows what it takes for a man to seduce another man? Gulf wonders how much of this afternoon was acting. He looks back at P'Mew. Their eyes meet and Gulf feels shy all of a sudden. Half moon eyes. They give him tingles all over, down to his toes. 

"Okay khrab. Start from the top, fall onto the bed." Mew and Gulf reset so they can land on their mark. They go at it again.

"Cuuuuut khrab. Gulf, no more moaning." 

Gulf's eyes go wide. He looks up at P'Mew. "Did I moan?" His senior gives him a lopsided grin and nods. 

P'Tee's sigh is fairly audible. "Okay khrab. I know you're channeling some intense emotions for your characters and you need an outlet. Let's get a clean, rating friendly take and then you can kiss as long as you need to get it out of your system. Khrab?" 

Gulf feels his cheeks and ears start to flush. God, has it come to that? He and P'Mew exchange sheepish glances. Guilty. They nod at each other. 

No tongue. No moaning. No biting. Gulf and Mew behave themselves, to everyone's surprise. 

"Cut khrab. Alright, you can go ahead and… that." 

Gulf doesn't need to be told twice. His arms wrap around P'Mew's neck, pulling him closer, kissing him harder. His senior responds with a hum that's barely audible, just loud enough to make Gulf's cock twitch. God, this isn't going to end well. He has to stop before it gets out of hand, before P'Mew sticks his tongue…

...in his mouth. There's no rating this time, no director to keep them in check. Gulf responds to the invitation, his tongue reaching out to caress P'Mew's. Just a taste. Just to show him what could be his if he wanted. P'Mew's grip on him tightens. God, he's going to lose it. 

P'Mew pulls back. His eyes are dark, but the look he gives him is soft. "We should probably stop na." His voice is almost a whisper, almost an apology. 

Gulf nods, feeling the warmth in his chest cry out for more, but knowing they really shouldn't keep going. Not with an entire crew setting up around them. Not when they have their professionalism already at stake. This is getting really bad. 

The smile P'Mew gives him is one he hasn't seen before. Like a mixture of sadness, confusion, frustration, and maybe… longing. Gulf isn't really sure. Maybe he's imagining things. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe they're just horny as fuck. 

P'Mew gets off him and stands from the bed. He walks away and doesn't look back. Gulf stays there, the warmth of P'Mew's body seeping away from him. 

________________

When he gets to the dressing area, P'Mew is already in his next costume. Jeans and a tee shirt. Safe. Gulf avoids eye contact. He's not sure he wants to see the expression in his senior's eyes. 

He removes the big boxers first so he can get his jeans on under the giant shirt. It's the careful strategy that boys use the first time they undress in the locker room. Trying to hide as much of their body as they change clothes. It's juvenile, but Gulf doesn't want to make any more mistakes. 

An arm is thrown around his shoulders, and there's P'Mew, looking at him with that sad puppy face he uses as Tharn. "Are we okay na? Did I upset you?" 

Gulf lets out the breath he was holding. He smiles at his senior- the sweet, genuine smile from the day they met. "We're okay na, Phi khrab. I just get lost sometimes. Thanks na for pulling me out of it." 

And there, just as he predicted, is the expression he didn't want to see in his senior's eyes. The one that's part disappointed, part relieved. One that holds no answers but is telling in its own right. 

The expression is gone before Gulf can even get irritated. It looks playful now. "So, is this supposed to be Tharn's shirt or a camping tent?" 

Gulf holds it out in front of him. "I thought a bed sheet." 

P'Mew laughs and squeezes his shoulder. "If you don't keep it, I want to."

"And what would Phi do with it?" 

"I need a new tablecloth." 

The warmth grows steadily in Gulf's chest. Small at first, spreading out with each laugh and smile. Things are starting to feel normal once again. 

"I'd better change or they'll charge me rent in this thing." 

Gulf climbs out of the shirt, making a satisfied noise as he hangs it back up on the rack. "Goodbye, sex shirt, thanks na khrab for your service." He salutes it and turns around to smile at P'Mew, but his senior isn't amused. 

It takes Gulf a second to figure out what's wrong. His Phi is looking at him like he did earlier. Like he's hungry . He looks down and realizes he's wearing nothing but the short, skin tight boxer-briefs. In white, so they would blend in with the shirt. 

He can't be turning him on. He just can't. Gulf knows he's a lot of things. Cute. Handsome. Tall. With the right shirt and some body paint, he's been able to pull off _so hot_ and possibly seductive. But in these skimpy underwear with no abs, no butt, and no muscular thighs… well, what's there to get excited about? He isn't even sucking in. Damnit. His fucking tummy is showing. It's a tiny tummy, just a little baby fat, but compared to P'Mew's pecks and abs, well, there's a reason he's Nong Stress Ball. 

"Yai Nong!" P'Pee rushes toward him. "Here you go, baby." He shoves a pair of pants at him. 

"Khrab." He nods his head slightly. It's awkward putting on the jeans in front of them. 

P'Pee tries to be subtle when he shoves Mew with his elbow, but subtlety isn't his thing. P'Mew shakes his head again and smiles. "P'Pee," he teases, "how come I don't get to wear anything sexy?"

Pee scoffs and slaps his arm. "Because, lover, nobody wants to see you in clothes." He smirks. "But we did have you in some skimpy house clothes. If I recall, a lot of your boxers were quite short and tight." 

P'Mew nods. "Ahhh… I was wondering why my house clothes were so snug." He gives Gulf an incredulous look. "I thought I was getting fat!" 

P'Pee giggles. "If you're ever worried, you can come exercise at my house." 

His senior shrugs. He reaches for the clothing rack and retrieves Type's shirt. "Give me something sexy to wear, and I might have a reason to exercise." He winks at Gulf and holds the shirt out for him to stick his head through. 

Gulf gives him a look. "Is Khun Phi going to dress me now?" 

Mew gives him the threatening look. The one that goes with the _Yai Nong…_ voice. "Someone has to." 

Touché. Gulf rolls his eyes and ducks his head into the neck hole. His senior guides his arms into the sleeves and pulls the shirt down around him. He smiles and brushes off his shoulders. "There na khrab, Khun Gulf khrab. It is a pleasure to wait upon you, Khun Gulf khrab. May fortune smile on you, Khun Gulf khrab." He backs away, making Wai every other step. 

Gulf laughs so hard he can't hear the rest of P'Mew's venerations. He gives him his snootiest look and shoos him away. "Be gone na, servant. I have no more need for you." 

His senior slouches over with laughter. His eyes are now crescent moons, and his playful laugh fills the space. Gulf feels a steady warmth around him. No excitement, no intensity, just the lovely, familiar warmth that comes from being around P'Mew. 

______________

_Come over na and help me make something for my girlfriend_ , he said. Gulf thought it would be a metal bracelet or a jewelry box. Not a shit ton of sanay chan. So here he is in N'Kaprao's kitchen, separating egg yolks. The two of them wear matching Hello Kitty aprons. 

Gulf transfers the egg from one half of the shell to the other, letting the whites drip down into a bowl. They looked up the technique on YouTube. "Is making desserts a hobby of yours?" 

Kaprao opens another can of coconut cream. "No, hobbies are my hobby khrab." 

"Alai na?" 

His nong chuckles. "I see a hobby that looks interesting, and I try it out. When I get bored of it, I move on." 

Huh. Gulf cracks open another egg. "How many hobbies have you tried na?" 

"Oh, let's see…" he starts counting on his fingers. "Ping pong, wood working, painting, karaoke, juggling, leather craft, photography, bowling, guitar, origami…oops, lost count."

Gulf shakes his head. "That's a lot."

"Wait, there's more na khrab." Kaprao counts on his fingers again, though he doesn't seem to be keeping track. "Paper boat racing, chess, checkers, four people chess, square dancing-" 

Gulf looks up from his egg. "What is square dancing?" 

He had to ask, didn't he? Kaprao does a series of steps to his side, forward, backward, turns around, and smacks his leg. "Yee haw!" He smiles triumphantly. "It's an American style of dance." 

"It looks like a hand clapping game." 

"Hmm what else na…" 

"What else?" Gulf drops an egg. It's surprisingly still intact. "There are more? Don't you stick to any of them?" 

Kaprao opens the final can of coconut cream. "Kite flying, jogging, aaaaand the harmonica." He dumps the cream into a large bowl. "I like to mix things up, so I usually try 4 or 5 hobbies at a time. I keep the ones I like." 

Gulf nods. How does Kaprao have so much time on his hands? "Doesn't it get overwhelming?"

Gulf thinks about his own hobbies. Football, definitely. Video games. Sleeping. Certain TV shows that may or may not be about guys who fall in love with other guys but Gulf can neither confirm nor deny. And that's about it. What can he say? He knows what he likes. Well, he knows a lot more _now_.

His junior spoons some sugar into a measuring cup. "Oh, I didn't tell you? I have ADHD. My brain thrives on constant stimulation. How are the eggs na khrab?" 

Gulf looks down at his bowl of yolks and counts them. Fifteen. It seems a bit excessive, but hey, he's not the one calling the shots here. "We're good." He gives him a thumbs up. 

Kaprao warms the coconut cream and sugar in a large pan. "So, Phi, how are things now that those feelings of affection have been acknowledged?" 

Gulf looks up from the bowl he's holding. It's the one Kaprao used for the coconut cream. His finger is still pressed to the inside where he's been scraping the leftovers into his mouth. "Alai wa?"

"Uuh." He gives Gulf a knowing look. "Now that Type has acknowledged his love for Tharn, is it different than playing him before?"

Oh. Right. The show. Gulf swallows and sets down the bowl. He'll be back for it later. "It's different, but also the same." He sighs and ruffles his hair. "Type was attracted to Tharn from the day they met. He didn't understand his feelings yet, so he pushed them away. He hid them from himself."

Kaprao smirks. "Told you he was in denial." 

Gulf grabs another finger scoop of coconut cream. "Denial implies that he knew what he was denying. But Type hid his feelings so far back, he didn't even know what they were."

"Did he and his feelings hide in the same closet?" 

Gulf laughs and makes an appreciative sound at the joke. He shakes his head and sighs. It's so exhausting being Type sometimes. At any given moment, he's juggling three different emotions, usually conflicting, and usually expressed through anger. And when he's not angry, he's absolutely smitten with Tharn. 

"And now?"

"Now that he acknowledges his feelings for Tharn, he's scared of putting his love out there because it makes it vulnerable. He keeps it inside to protect it."

Kaprao tastes the cream and sugar mixture."Don't judge me, but I could drink a mug of this stuff." He smacks his lips. "So, now he's hiding his love from Tharn so that it doesn't get, what, attacked?" 

Gulf shrugs. "Can you blame him? First P'San, then Tar, then Lhong. Confirmation bias."

"Ooh, nice phrase." 

"Thank you." Gulf stands a little straighter. He's proud of himself for that one. "Type still thinks that love belongs to the person who feels it. He has to learn that love is meant to be given." 

"Deeeeeeeep, Phi. What happens if that love is never given?"

Shia. How do their conversations always end up so heavy? Gulf has to think for a moment. What happens when you hold onto love and never give it?

"I guess…" he says, tracing the edge of the bowl. "It becomes corrupted. Like Lhong's love for Tharn. He never expressed it, so it became twisted and delusional." 

Kaprao sets down his spoon. "Okay, that's terrifying. It's crazy how something as pure as love can turn into something so damaging. Who'd have thought love came with an expiration date?" 

Gulf freezes, finger still stuck in his mouth. Samet Island. Feeling so desolate and frustrated. Acting so childish and petty. Gulf's not romantic enough to think he's in love, but if his crush on P'Mew could result in all that in just a few months… well, then he's fucked. 

Furthermore, how does Kaprao always manage to make every conversation relate back to him and P'Mew? He squints at him until Kaprao smiles. 

"Khrab?" 

Gulf raises an eyebrow. "What are you up to?" 

"Pass the flour?" He shakes some of it into the pan and mixes. "You know, Phi, just because I don't have any more scenes, it doesn't mean I've stopped playing Khom. His role was to help Type realize things that were staring him right in his _so hot_ face." 

Well now it's time for Gulf to roll his eyes. This kid. "Is this why you invited me over to make desserts? I don't even like sweets, so I have no idea what I'm doing." 

Kaprao shrugs. "I thought you'd enjoy it." 

Why? He's supposed to like domestic things just because he's gay? 

Shia. This is the first time Gulf's referred to himself as gay, even in his head. He hasn't had the guts. He can accept that he has a crush on P'Mew and that he's been attracted to guys before. But to call himself gay feels so official. He almost feels as if he doesn't have the credentials or something. How does Kaprao always bring out these moments of self discovery? Gay Whisperer indeed.

"Can't have a conversation without it turning into an epiphany or something," he grumbles. 

"Good word."

Damnit, Kaprao. He huffs and slouches against the counter. "Why did you think I would enjoy it?"

Kaprao adds more flour to the mixture. He sighs and looks over at his Phi. "I thought you might need a distraction at first, but once you got here, I wondered if you needed to talk it out with someone." A smirk flashes on his face. "And not just out loud to yourself." 

Gulf gives him a mocking look. Know-it-all. "One of these days, you're gonna be wrong." 

"Maybe my next hobby will be fortune telling." 

They leave the sanay chan dough to cool under a cheesecloth. Gulf uses that time to ask for demonstrations of Kaprao's hobbies. 

"I painted this when I got accepted to university." He points to a canvas with swirls and lines in orange, yellow, and red. 

He plays a few bars on his guitar. The tune sounds nice but it's unfamiliar. "It's called Wonderwall," he says the name in English. "There's a western joke about it, but I haven't figured it out yet. Anyway, here it is." 

"This is my favorite photo that I took!" It's a close-up of a dog's face with the snout right up against the lens. 

"I made that birdhouse out there. No, not that one- the lopsided one. Woodworking wasn't really my thing." 

"Oppa Gangnam style!" His karaoke skills aren't too bad. 

"Oh, my origami!" He shows Gulf a paper giraffe. 

By the time Kaprao starts juggling oranges, Gulf is exhausted. Where does his nong get all this energy? Gulf wonders if he ought to try something new. After all, wasn't that one of the requirements he gave to P'Mew? Encourage him to try new things? He didn't realize the new thing was exploring his latent homosexuality. 

Another word he hasn't used yet. Damnit, Krapao. 

His junior shows him how to roll the dough into little balls of sanay chan. They make buttons to go on top out of dough mixed with cinnamon. Gulf only now notices the obscene amount of dough they have. 

"Nong, how many of these are we making?" 

"About thirty." 

Alai wa? "Are they for a party or something?" Otherwise, who makes thirty sanay chan for their girlfriend? Well, Krapao might. 

His junior laughs and shakes his head. "No, I'm giving her ten of them. That's all that will fit in the wooden box I made for her." His eyebrows furrow. "If the box doesn't fall apart first."

"So, what are you doing with the other twenty?" 

"They're for you." 

Alai WA? "Thanks, but I don't like sweets, remember?"

His nong laughs again, harder this time. "No, but P'Mew does. They're for you to take to the set and give to the cast and crew. It will look like you made them for everyone, but you really made them for him. To match the moon shell." 

Alai… wa? He didn't even tell Kaprao that he gave the shell to P'Mew, though it was probably obvious. Gulf ponders the weird mystery that is his junior. How does this guy notice everything? Why is he being so nice? 

"Um. Thanks na khrab." 

"No problem." He waves it off. "You can pay me back later."

And there it is. There had to be a catch. 

Kaprao rubs his chin. "Let's see… you could try out my new video game with me! I heard it's better when you play co-op. Or you could go with me to this live music thing next month. Local bands, but they're usually pretty good." 

Well, shia. The kid's a damn saint. His idea of Gulf paying him back is to hang out with him? "Uh, wouldn't you rather I treat you to hot pot or something?" 

Kaprao considers it. "Nah, that's boring. We can go out for food any time. We could try welding!" 

His nong is going to be the death of him. 

_____________________

P'Pee's eyes roll back in his head. "My diet," he moans. He takes another bite of his sanay chan. 

P'Tee and P'Kob nod vigorously at each other. P'Mild is eyeing a second piece. P'Run is taking a picture of his. Gulf breathes a sigh of relief. The sanay chan is a hit. He takes pictures of everyone enjoying them so he can send them to Kaprao. The kid's a genius. 

P'Mew rushes toward Gulf for a one of his big bear hugs. He leans in and presses their cheeks together as he chews, causing Gulf's face to squish up and down, too. Talk about being a cheeky bastard. Gulf presses back against P'Mew, and pretty soon they're giggling like schoolboys as they rock side to side, each trying to chew more obnoxiously against the other's face. Gulf isn't even eating anything, but he's having too much fun to care.

P'Mew pulls away, laughing behind his hand as he finishes chewing. "Did you really make these?" 

Gulf's smile is a shy one, the one he so often uses in interviews. "I helped. N'Kaprao did the actual cooking. How is it?"

P'Mew contemplates for a second. "It tastes better than the shell you gave me." 

He smiles in that cheeky, crescent eyed way, the kind that makes Gulf's heart melt. His senior is so handsome. Gulf smiles back with his smitten, dopey smile. He can't help it. He's warm all over just looking at him. 

P'Mew tugs on his wrist and pulls him close. "What other secret talents do you have?" 

Well, shia, now he really feels shy. He looks away from his charming senior. "It's a secret, obviously." 

His comment earns him a warm laugh. P'Mew shakes his tummy. "What does Khun Phi have to do to learn the secret?" He leans close to see Gulf's face. "Hhm? Can I learn the secret?" 

Gulf laughs, turning away from him. Truth be told, he doesn't have any secret talents. Though he does know someone who can teach him a few hundred. "Khun Phi has to…"

Mew squeezes the sides of his belly. "Naaa naaa." 

How can he say no to that? "Khun Phi must show me his secret talents, too." 

His senior pulls back a little to get a better look at him. He purses his lips together as he considers it. "Like quid pro quo?" 

"Huh?" 

P'Mew's smile bathes him in warmth. The fluttering in his stomach won't stop. 

"It's Latin," he explains. "It means this for that. I share something, then you share something." 

I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours. The idea makes Gulf's skin tingle. He's not sure which is more exciting, the idea of watching P'Mew do something, or having P'Mew watch him. All he knows is that he can't help the cheeky smile on his face. 

"Okay khrab." Gulf untangles himself from his senior and holds out his hand for a handshake. "Squid pro co." 

He said it wrong, didn't he? P'Mew is laughing so hard, pulling him into his arms, and resting his forehead on Gulf's shoulder as he shakes with laughter. He squeezes Gulf's sides, then rubs them up and down as a kind of apology for laughing at him. 

Gulf waits until the laughter slows down. "What?" He leans in to P'Mew's ear. "It's not squid pro co?" 

The shaking builds up again as P'Mew's laughter resurges. He mumbles into Gulf's shoulder. Something like, stop, my stomach hurts. He grabs the back of Gulf's shirt, and all Gulf can think of is other ways to elicit that response. It takes another minute, but his Phi finally calms down. When he stands upright again, he clasps his hand over Gulf's mouth. 

"Not again," he orders. "You're making me sore." 

Gulf's response is muffled. What he said was, _shouldn't it be the other way around?_ He's a little relieved he wasn't heard.

"Yai Nong…" P'Mew uses the threatening voice and points at him with his other hand. "If I release you, will you be a good boy?" 

For fucks sake. Does Mew even know what kind of effect he has on him? He nods slowly. And because he's a little shit, he does the eye thing P'Pee taught him. A slow, singular bat of the eyelashes. 

The corner of P'Mew's mouth twitches. "I'll take that as a yes." He removes his hand. 

Gulf smiles innocently and licks his lips. "Hm. Tastes like sanay chan… and a hint of seashell." 

His senior shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Yai Nong, Yai Nong, Yai Nong…" he pulls on his arm and turns him around for a back hug. "What will I do with my Yai Nong?" 

"Whatever you want." Oh shia, he said that out loud, didn't he? 

P'Mew's warm breath tickles his neck as he laughs. "Do you mean it?" He hugs him closer. 

Delicious warmth overflows from Gulf's chest, spreading to every part of his body. It fills him with the happy puppy feeling he's always known from P'Mew, along with something else this time. Something new and dark and tantalizing. It's not just P'Mew's hands at his stomach. It's P'Mew's chest pressed against his back. It's the way his senior feels so much bigger around him. It's the thought that P'Mew could cage him completely in his arms, could cover his body from the tips of his fingers, to the nape of his neck, and down to his toes. And Gulf wants so badly to be enveloped by his Khun Phi, wants to be enclosed in his embrace. He wants to feel P'Mew on every inch of his body and be dominated by him. 

Well, fuck. That's a new thought. He shakes his head and looks around. Is Kaprao hiding somewhere on set?

"Yai Nong?" P'Mew pats his tummy. "Are you okay na?" 

"Yes." He takes a deep breath. "And yes I mean it." 

"Hmm…" Khun Phi's arms wrap around his waist. "Whatever I want?" His voice is low and rough. Gulf can feel himself pressing back against P'Mew, trying so hard to curl into his arms. 

"Yes," he says for the third time. "Anything." 

"Good…" he loosens his arms and pinches at his waist. "Then show me your secret talent." 

Bastard. Gulf elbows him in the ribs. Not hard. Just to get him off him. Just so he can turn around and glare at him. 

"What happened to-"

"Don't say it!" P'Mew is already smiling, already on the verge of laughter. 

Gulf crosses his arms. "But you said we would do-"

"You said you'd be a good boy." 

"To-"

"Yai Nong…" God, it's so hot when he does that. Gulf is going out of his mind. 

He smirks at him. "Squid pro co." 

P'Mew hunches over with laughter. His eyes are barely visible. Tiny lines in the shape of crescent moons. Gulf laughs, too. How can he not? His Phi is so silly, so playful. And yet so painfully handsome that Gulf has to look away.

The static of a walkie talkie echoes in the hall. "Okay khrab, set's ready." 

His senior wipes at the tears in his eyes. "Okay, na. Okay. We'll do squid pro co." He puts his arm around Gulf as they walk to the set. "But you're going first.” 


	8. Head to Head

"I can't see why Tharn is in love with Type," says P'Mew. 

Gulf puts his phone on speaker and fishes under his bed for stray socks. "You say that every time we talk." It's true. They call each other a lot to talk about their characters, and every time, P'Mew begins with the same sentence. 

"Do you know why he loves him?" P'Mew challenges.

Gulf feels cloth under his fingers and grabs it. So that's where his undershirt's been. "Yes." Of course he knows. He's thought about it every day since he got cast. Hell, he's been acting it out this whole damn time. Is P'Mew blind?

"Help me na? Naaa? Naaaa?" God, has P'Mew always been this whiny? 

Gulf tosses the undershirt into his basket. "Well, what are some of Type's good traits?" 

His senior laughs. "That's a short list." 

Dick. Gulf grabs his phone and basket and heads to the washing machine. He knows P'Mew is insulting Type, but for some reason it feels like his senior is insulting him, too. "There's gotta be something. P'Mame wouldn't write a total monster." 

"Okay na khrab." Gulf hears the sound of clanging dishes. P'Mew sighs. "He's quick to make up, especially when it's his fault."

Not a bad start. "And what does that reveal about him?" 

More clanging plates. Is he emptying his dish rack? "He's not too proud to own up to his actions. He'd rather be on good terms again than be right." P'Mew pauses, then makes a whining noise. "But if he wasn't such an asshole all the time, he wouldn't have anything to apologize for." 

"He's not an asshole," Gulf snaps. "He just acts like one." 

"I'm not a serial killer, I just act like one- see how stupid that sounds?" 

"It's not stupid, it's how he is!" He slams the lid to the washing machine. Shia, he forgot detergent. He opens the lid again. It just means he gets to slam it twice. 

P'Mew groans. "So, why does he act like an asshole if he supposedly isn't one?" Gulf doesn't miss the emphasis on the word supposedly. 

He pours out more detergent than he meant. "Ah fuck." He slams the lid again. "Figure it out. I did." 

He hears the clang of silverware being dropped into a drawer. "And why should I analyze your character when I have my own to focus on? Isn't that your responsibility?"

Anger flashes through Gulf's body, sending a prickling sensation all over his skin. His face is burning. "Because until you understand who Type is, you'll never know why Tharn loves him."

His senior scoffs. "What's there to understand? He's a cocky little shit talker who spends the entire first half of the show in denial, and the other half grabbing people's shirt collars and yelling like a belligerent asshole." 

That's it. Gulf can handle the occasional comment about Type. The guy's a jackass. But he's not an asshole, and if anyone should understand that, it should be Tharn. And if Mew doesn't understand it, how will Tharn? Rage fills Gulf as he thinks about all the insults P'Mew has thrown at Type. But did he ever take a moment to examine him? To understand him?

Gulf grips the phone tightly. "Well, I can't understand what Type sees in Tharn. He's a sulky, whiny, nagging little bitch who's so desperate to feel loved that he'll put up with all kinds of things from a cocky little shit talker like Type."

He hears plates being slammed into the counter. "Type hurts everyone around him and he gets away with it because they know he's an asshole and there's nothing they can do about it."

Alai wa? "I told you, he's not an asshole. And at least he doesn't beg for attention like Tharn. Throwing himself at Type all the time. Doesn't even have enough self respect to move on when he's rejected. Did Type actually fall in love with him, or did he just feel sorry for him?" 

Silence. Then breathing. Then P'Mew finally says, "I think we're done for the night."

Gulf doesn't wait for more. He hangs up and glares at his phone. "See how you like having your character shit on." 

He leans against the washing machine. Mew warned him he had a temper. He should have warned Mew that he had one, too. It's not their first time fighting over their characters, either. Most of the time, they disagreed about whether their reactions were in character. This is the first time they've ever attacked Tharn and Type's personalities. Well, except every single time P'Mew says he can't understand why Tharn loves Type. 

Gulf curses and ruffles his hair. He knows exactly how shitty it feels having your character torn apart. Even if you're nothing like them, you have to understand where they're coming from, what motivates them, what they fear, and what they want most. You have to get inside not just their head, but their heart. 

Gulf spent a lot of time examining Type. He read the books, studied the script, and spent entire days as Type during workshop. Gulf knows Type inside and out. He's seen his soul. And for P'Mew to tear him to shreds like that, it feels like he's insulting someone close to him. Someone he loves. 

He's also studied Tharn. Isn't it an equally valid question to ask why Type loves him? He's a total nag, he's needy as all hell, and the boy knows how to throw one hell of a pity party. When they ask him about it in interviews, Gulf's answer is that Tharn is very caring and that he takes care of Type. It's what they want to hear. But at the very root is that Tharn gets Type and he accepts him for who he is. Type doesn't have to hide anything, doesn't have to worry about being judged. The amount of trust he gives to Tharn is astounding. _Whatever you say, I'll believe you_. And Type means it. When he came home from Puifai's and he gave his heart to Tharn, he did it completely and without hesitation. 

But if stupid fucking P'Mew doesn't understand that, he'll never get the answer he's looking for. 

_________

Gulf lies back on his pillows, out of breath and tingling with the fading traces of euphoria. He grabs some tissue to wipe his hand. Not something he was expecting at 2:00 in the afternoon on his day off, but there you go. His plans were to play video games, study his lines, and maaaaybe take a crack at some homework. Not jerk off. Not while thinking about… someone.

Okay, it was P'Mew. Gulf shuts his eyes tight, wondering how this even happened. It's not like he meant to. Not until he started, and then he really meant to. He's not even sure what prompted it. He was mad at the bastard all last night after their argument. He was mad at him all morning, and all through lunch. And finally around 2, he supposes he ran out of anger. And in its stead, his mind brought up an image of P'Mew, which turned into several images of P'Mew, which turned into an imaginary scenario in which their normal cuddles went, well, further. 

He thought of P'Mew caressing his face, kissing him softly the way he does as Tharn. Kisses to his jaw and neck, breathing in his scent, and fingers running through his hair. Such a lovely, harmless fantasy. It made him feel so warm, made him snuggle into his sheets with the thought of it. 

Before he knew it he was rubbing the front of his boxers, imagining those kisses growing more ardent and urgent. Now those fingers were tugging at his hair, eliciting moans from Gulf that were swallowed by P'Mew's deep kisses. Moans that were echoed by his senior as their tongues met, and Gulf had to grab and grasp at P'Mew's shirt. 

And it occurred to him that P'Mew didn't really need a shirt. And so Gulf pulled on it until P'Mew got the hint, letting him lift it above his head and throw it off to the side. And then taking in the sight of P'Mew shirtless. Ever since the shower scene, the memory of it has been driving him crazy. And here in this not-so-harmless fantasy, he found himself running his fingers over P'Mew's chest, tracing his abs with his thumb. 

Then came the frantic efforts to undress each other without breaking their kiss. Fumbling with their belts, aching to get out of their jeans and into each other's arms. Feeling their warm skin pressed together, Gulf's hands grabbing at the flesh of P'Mew's arms. This was about when Gulf let his hand slip under the waistband of his boxers, committed now to crossing that line and letting his imagination loose. 

His desperate strokes became P'Mew's hands, his ragged breathing in response to the P'Mew in his head. The one who touched him so tenderly that it made him melt, and just as quickly touched him hungrily and greedily. Hands that traveled the length of his sides and scratched his thighs. Hands that pushed his legs open and stroked him in a steady, agonizing rhythm that made his toes curl and his back arch. 

P'Mew's eyes, large and imploring, watching Gulf as he brought him to that exquisite edge. Eyes that looked at him so lovingly, as if to ask, _can it always be like this?_ And in those eyes Gulf imagined a want and need that mirrored his own. That P'Mew craved him just as much as he did. That P'Mew touched himself while he thought of Gulf. And that thought became his undoing. He came with a force he hadn't experienced before, whimpering as he stroked himself through waves of pleasure. 

Now in the after-afterglow, Gulf ponders the ramifications of his actions. Can he look at P'Mew after this? He hates this. Why can't things just be good between them? Is it because of his crush? He's holding it in, and it's getting corrupted inside him? There's only one person he can talk to about this. 

"Hello?" 

Gulf grips the phone. "I'm coming over. We need to talk." 

______________

_Breathe. Just breathe._

_It hurts, but keep breathing._

_Try to relax, don't tense up._

Gulf can't stand the strain anymore. His legs weren't meant to stay up like this. Admittedly, the stretching sensation is starting to feel good, and the sweet burn of it makes his head swim. 

"Remember to exhale." 

Gulf nods and lets out the breath he was holding. 

"Good. How's that feel?"

Gulf pulls his legs up higher. "I think this position is my favorite." He exhales. "I didn't like being on my knees." 

"Heh. Who does?" Kaprao grins at him. He straightens his legs and sits up. "So, what'd you think of your first yoga session?" 

Gulf lowers his legs and stretches out on his mat. "Mmm. I needed this." He looks at his junior. "Thanks na." 

"What's next? Swimming? My university has a pool we can use." 

Gulf yawns and curls up on the mat. "Nap time." He opens one eye and looks at his nong.

"Uh huh." Kaprao smacks his leg. "How about snack time?" 

"That's what I meant." Gulf jumps up and heads for the kitchen. He knows the way. 

They sit facing each other on the parallel countertops. Gulf kicks his legs over the edge while Kaprao sits cross legged. 

"We can keep doing yoga, if you want," says his junior. He licks at his melon flavored popsicle. "Or we can find you something else."

Gulf tilts his head from side to side, his cheeks moving up and down as he chews. "I like yoga." He tosses another pork rind in his mouth. "But what do you mean find something else?" 

"Your secret talent na khrab."

Shia. Gulf draws his knees up to his chest and hugs them. He forgot he asked Kaprao to help him develop a talent. That was before, though. P'Mew doesn't deserve to see his squid pro whatever. He rubs his arms to warm them up. Why is Kaprao's house so chilly?

"That secret talent story you told me," Kaprao says. He licks his popsicle and smiles. "Nalak nalak." So cute. 

Yeah, well. Gulf shivers and hugs his legs tighter. He doesn't want to hear about how cute he and P'Mew are. Everyone knows they're cute. The whole crew likes to tease them about it. P'Mew's so handsy and Gulf's so smiley, it's no wonder everyone ships them. But they've also seen their arguments and full-on fights. They've seen them in the heat of a disagreement. It's about on par as Tharn and Type sometimes. 

Kaprao leans forward and squints at him. "Oh." He nods and leans back against the cabinets. 

"What do you mean, _oh_?" He curls up tighter, as small as he can make himself, considering his height. Which is taller than P'Mew, khap khun khrab. 

Kaprao shrugs. "I just didn't notice until now." He takes a few licks of his ice cream. Far more than necessary. The little shit is clearly drawing out the anticipation. "You two have been fighting for, what, 24 hours?" 

Alai. Wa. Now it's his turn to squint. How does he know these things? "Do you and P'Mew talk? Like, the way you and I talk?" 

His nong looks skeptical. "You really think Mew Suppasit wants to hang out with a spastic jack of all trades?"

Gulf doesn't hesitate. "Yes." Mew would love that. He gives Kaprao a look. "And don't change the subject. Do you guys… talk about me?" 

Gulf hates how insecure he's being right now. Of course Mew and Kaprao don't gossip about him behind his back. He knows this on a cerebral level. But his aching little heart doesn't give a fuck about the cerebral level. P'Mew is mad at him, he's mad at P'Mew, he's horny all the time, and his strangely psychic/telepathic friend can tell with one look that he's been fighting with his stupid crush. 

Kaprao gives him a reassuring smile. "You don't have anything to worry about. Your hubby doesn't bitch to me about you." He raises an eyebrow. "Though I'm surprised you haven't figured out who his confidantes are yet." 

Gulf's eyes widen. Of course. Did he really think he was the only one who had a Krapao? He jumps down from the counter and punches his hand. "That son of a bitch." He starts pacing in the kitchen. "I know he and P'Mild were friends before the show…" 

"Yeah, but that one was too obvious," says Krapao. 

"P'Run, of course!" He punches his hand again. "They're always joking around and chatting." 

Krapao looks up at the ceiling. "Hmm, maybe. I'm not even sure on that one."

Gulf stops and puts his hands on his hips. "Shia. You don't even know?" 

"I know at least two." 

Gulf racks his brain. Who is his senior closest to? Or close enough at least for him to confide in them? It's probably not someone in charge- Not P'Tee, P'Kob, or even P'Mame herself. Actually... 

"P'Mame?" 

Kaprao grins. "That would be awesome. But no." 

Someone P'Mew can talk to, can confide in. Someone he's close to. Someone he trusts… 

There's no way...

He looks at his nong with confusion. "Is it… me? Am I his confidante?" 

Kaprao looks at him for a moment. "Wow. That would be so cool." His face breaks out into a huge smile. "I kinda wish that were it. But no, this isn't one of those things." 

Shia. He's an idiot. He thunks his head against the kitchen counter. "P'Pee." Of course it is. 

"Ding ding ding!" His nong giggles. "Man, you're really bad at guessing." 

He shrugs in response. P'Pee, huh? "How do you know it's him?" He shakes his head. "And wait a second- how do you know I'm fighting with P'Mew?" 

Krapao looks sad for a moment. Gulf never thought he'd see Kaprao sad. "You feel cold when you're mad at him." He gives Gulf a little smile. "You'd think it would make you hot. Anger and all. But P'Mew mentioned that you're always hot, even in cold weather. That's why he saved you a seat by the aircon even though it was cool and windy at Samet." 

Gulf remembers the wind and the drizzle at the resort. He remembers feeling cold for the first time in a while. In hindsight, he really would have loved that weather. "What about now?" 

Kaprao points to the counter. "You had your knees drawn up and you were rubbing your arms to warm yourself."

"It's freezing in your house!" 

Kaprao points to the thermostat. Gulf stomps over to it, determined to prove him wrong. He curses when he reads the screen. Almost 26 degrees. He'd normally be sweating by now. 

He looks at Kaprao. "So… I'm cold when I'm angry at him?" 

He shrugs. "Angry, sad, basically anything negative. You want a sweater or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The sweater is pink, a popular look for guys. Gulf doesn't have one like this, but lately he's been curious about clothes. He feels less cold now, but not quite warm. And definitely not _warm_. He expects he won't feel that anytime soon. 

"Wanna talk about it? You said we needed to talk."

Truth be told, that's not what he wanted, despite what he said. He wanted to be distracted, and who better to do that than the guy who knows a million hobbies? Then again, he should have known that any conversation with his nong inevitably becomes a conversation about his stupid schoolboy crush on P'Mew. 

In the end, he decides to just get on with it. They move to the couch, where Gulf recounts their fight. He hopes it doesn't make P'Mew look bad. He doesn't want people thinking he's a jerk. 

Kaprao plays with a rubix cube while he listens. He said that doing something with his hands would help him focus. Some ADHD thing. He nods every now and then. 

"And then I hung up on him," Gulf concludes. 

Kaprao sets down his cube. "So, do you want a sympathetic shoulder? Advice? Encouragement?"

Gulf takes a minute. He's never been asked that before. People usually jump in with advice. He never thought there were other options. Still, he's eager to hear what his nong would suggest. 

"Advice."

Kaprao claps his hands and rubs them together. "Okay, so…" he tilts his head to the side. "Are you mad that P'Mew doesn't understand Type? Or that he doesn't understand _you?_ " 

"Alai wa? Of course it's Type. It wasn't me he was insulting."

His junior makes a skeptical noise. "You mentioned you'd been acting out the answer the whole time. Do you take his lack of understanding as an insult to your acting?" 

"I didn't until now…" 

"Oops, sorry, Phi." Kaprao shifts in his seat. "Okay, new approach. Is it because… hmm, do I want to go down this road?"

Gulf closes his eyes and braces himself. "Out with it, Nong."

Kaprao takes a deep breath. "Is it because you want to be loved the same way Type is loved, and you're worried if P'Mew can't understand it as Tharn, then he'll never do it as Mew?" 

Fuck. Gulf pulls his legs up to his chest again. He never thought about it that way, but now that he has, it stings at him. How does Kaprao see these things? He makes a face and ruffles his hair. It still doesn't feel accurate.

"Maybe? I don't know." 

"Yeah, it was my most philosophical one," says Kaprao. "Something like his interpretation of the characters gives you insight into the way he sees people. And his idea of love between two characters is… indicative of his own perception of love? Phew! Did I sound like a textbook or what?" 

Gulf chuckles. He appreciates his nong's ability to lighten any situation. "I think I'm upset because he didn't take the time to understand Type. Like he didn't try to get to know him, and yet he demands answers of him." He slaps the sofa. "I studied Tharn! But he didn't do the same for Type."

"You wish he would put more effort into your partnership as co-stars?" 

Gulf thinks about it. That sounds pretty accurate. "Yes." 

"So, you'll tell him that, right?" 

He rises from the couch. "You're damn right I will." He grabs a few more pork rinds for the road. "See you later na?" 

"Khrab."

_________________________

Gulf drives home, going through in his head what he'll say to P'Mew. He'll be straightforward and honest about things. Civil. He doesn't like fighting with him. He's getting really sick of being angry at him, too. It's better to just make up and suggest he speak to P'Mame about the Type situation. A compromise. It's what coupl...frien… co-stars should do. 

His phone goes off when he gets home. It's P'Mew. He wasn't ready for this just yet. He was hoping for a few minutes to collect himself. 

He sighs and answers the call. "Hello?" 

"He does everything with his heart." 

Gulf is already smiling. He shuts his bedroom door and leans against it. "Khrab."

"Even when he hates, it's because his heart is hurting." 

"Khrab."

"And when he loves…" P'Mew sighs. "It's with his whole heart. He doesn't show it well, but if you look for it, it's there." 

"Khrab." 

"He changes a lot, too. Not just from hate to love. He becomes a considerate person. He's more open, letting people know he and Tharn are together. He becomes selfless." 

"Khrab." 

P'Mew laughs. Not a normal laugh. It sounds like he's crying. "He learns to control his temper, too." He sniffles on the other end. 

Gulf walks to his bed and falls back onto the mattress. Is this real? 

"And yet…" P'Mew's voice trails off, leaving Gulf wondering what kind of axe is about to fall. "Tharn doesn't know any of this will happen. So, that's not why he loves Type at first." 

Gulf closes his eyes. Is this where they are again? He doesn't want to keep having the same tired conversation, the same fight. And maybe he doesn't need his senior to understand Type. Maybe it's enough for him to pretend that he loves him. 

_Maybe it's enough for him to pretend he loves him._

P'Mew's breath is shaky. He must be crying. "But he doesn't have to know what the future holds. He just needs to know Type." He sniffles again. "He knows that Type puts his whole heart into everything. So, if he's lucky enough to be loved by Type, then he knows that that love will be unconditional and will last forever." 

Gulf didn't mean to start crying. He didn't know that he needed to hear this. He wipes at his eyes and smiles. His chest is aching, but in a good way somehow. Like it can't possibly hold in the warmth anymore. Like it has to go somewhere or he'll burst. He sniffles and wipes his face with his sleeve. Shia, he's still wearing Kaprao's sweater. 

"You crying, too?" Asks P'Mew. 

"No, just you," he says with a laugh. He wipes his nose. Damn, did it again. He was going to wash the sweater before giving it back, anyway. 

"Sorry na for being an asshole."

Gulf laughs and cries at the same time. "You were just acting like one."

"Yai Nong?" 

"Yes, Khun Phi?"

"Why does Type love Tharn?" 

His smile widens. He spreads out on his bed, stretching his limbs and enjoying the fact that he and P'Mew have made up. That P'Mew finally gets Type, the person he's been playing every day for months. 

"Because Tharn understands him." He stares at his ceiling, wondering what P'Mew is looking at on his end. "He's seen how damaged he is, and the ugliness he's capable of. He's seen the darkest parts of Type, but he never turns away from him."

"Khrab."

"It's not just that he can be himself with Tharn," he grabs a pillow and hugs it to his chest. "It's that he doesn't have to hide anything from him. Tharn's the one person he can be completely vulnerable with."

"Khrab."

Gulf chuckles. "And the handsome bastard's amazing in bed." 

It's a real laugh from P'Mew this time. Gulf closes his eyes again, listening to his favorite sound. He doesn't want any more angry words. Just this. 

"So, is it Type or Gulf who thinks Tharn is handsome?" 

Shameless flirt. "Neither. I misspoke." He frowns and mumbles, "How many times do I have to say it na?" 

"If it's Type, a few more. If it's Gulf, a lot more."

"Huh." Gulf rolls onto his stomach. "I never get those compliments from you." 

"Of course you do." 

"Alai? When?" 

There's a pause. Presumably because P'Mew can't think of a time he called Gulf handsome. Because there hasn't been such an instance. Gulf would have remembered. 

"Hmm, you're right." He hears P'Mew strain, followed by the sound of mattress springs. Is he lying in bed, too? "I say them, but not to you. Maybe I should, huh?" 

Alai wa? "Who are you talking to about me?" 

His senior laughs again. "Apparently everyone but you." Gulf can hear the sounds of bedsheets and a duvet. P'Mew is definitely in bed. 

Gulf looks around his room, unsure of how to feel. "What kinds of things?" 

"Mm, curious?"

"If it's about me, yes! What are you telling people?" 

P'Mew's laughter is playful. "Nothing much. You know, Yai Nong looks so handsome today, look he's being cute again, I like how flippy his hair is this morning, P'Mew's nong is so handsome… should I go on?" 

Gulf is thankful they're on the phone. He can't help the dreamy, bashful smile on his face. Does P'Mew really say these things? 

"Careful, Khun Phi, or you'll make me fall for you." 

"Would that be so bad?"


	9. Type

**Friday afternoon:**

P'Pee walks up to Gulf and taps him on the shoulder. "Marshmallow, do you know what's wrong with your Khun Phi?" He points at P'Mew sitting on a bench by himself. He's on his phone and his face is frozen in a scowl.

Gulf rolls his eyes. "He's being pissy." 

**Sunday morning:**

Gulf bumps into P'Mew as they walk through the corridor. He shoots his senior a dirty look. P'Mew huffs and walks faster to leave him behind. 

**Sunday afternoon:**

Gulf stares into Mew's eyes. They're narrowed and vicious, but so are Gulf's. 

"I need to use it." 

"So do I."

"You got first turn last time."

"That doesn't count, because you didn't have to go." 

"Of course it does. Did you or did you not get to go immediately after eating?" 

"Then yesterday was your turn, because it was my day off." 

"That shouldn't count, because you weren't here to make use of it."

"Oh? Did you or did you not get to go immediately after eating?" 

"Fine! You can use the bathroom first. I'll go find some air freshener." 

**Monday afternoon:**

Gulf sits on the couch in Tharn and Type's apartment. He's scrolling through Instagram, minding his own damn business. 

P'Mew walks in, looks at him, and sighs. Gulf pretends he didn't see. He stretches out to lie on the couch, taking up all the room. P'Mew sighs again and sits in the office chair. Gulf feels triumphant. 

**Monday evening:**

Mew and Gulf stand about a meter apart, both on their phones, both turned away from each other. 

It's stupid, really. They're being childish. They know better than this. And yet, here they are. Gulf misses being in P'Mew's arms, misses his smiles and his half moon eyes. He misses his singing, even if he's moved on from old love songs to pop music. He'll endure more BlackPink if it means he gets to sit in P'Mew's lap and just feel warm again. 

But then the irritation builds back up inside him and he can't stand the way P'Mew chews or how he's picked up Tharn's habit of drumming on random surfaces. He hates that the hair and makeup crew keep styling P'Mew's hair in a fringe. He knows it's to make him look younger and more approachable. But it's like goodbye sex god, hello whipped hubby. Gulf misses that side parted Prince Charming hair. He likes seeing all of P'Mew's face. 

Their scenes have been getting heavy. Type and Tharn are constantly fighting, getting in each other's faces, yelling. It reminds Gulf of their own fights, the harshness in P'Mew's voice, the coldness in his eyes. 

No, not cold. Hot. Burning hot rage that seers into Gulf's heart. And Gulf knows he can give as good as he gets, and he can hear his own anger when he growls at Tharn and grabs his shirt collar. It's so much more intense than their early fights in the dorm room. Baby fights. Roommate fights. Nothing compared to the bitterness of fighting with the person you love. The person who's supposed to be on your side. 

Gulf turns off his phone screen. He was just staring at it anyway. He's about to walk away when he hears P'Mew shift to look at him."Yai Nong?" His voice is low and pleading. Gulf turns to see large, imploring eyes and an expression of longing.

_They all secretly want to be brought down to their knees and made to beg._

Gulf gives him the look that Type gives Tharn when all is forgiven. The indulgent smile of someone who can't stay angry for long. "Yes, Khun Phi?" 

His senior wraps his arms around him, hugging him close and stroking his hair. "Sorry na. Sorry. I'm sorry." He keeps repeating his apology. 

Gulf closes his eyes. He rubs his back, pressing his cheek against his. "I'm sorry, too." He doesn't know how he's survived this long without holding his senior.

P'Mew looks at him, his eyes back to half moons. "I should know better."

They both should. It's getting harder to leave behind the feelings they're channeling as Tharn and Type. They both decided early on that they would go all in for this performance, that they would make Tharn and Type as real as possible. But have they taken it too far? "Sometimes I don't know how to stop being Type…" he swallows, his breath coming out shaky. 

P'Mew's smile is sad. "Sometimes I don't want to stop being Tharn." 

Gulf slides his hands to P'Mew's waist, where he's most ticklish. "I like my Khun Phi better."

His senior laughs and cups his cheek. Gulf feels warm from the touch and from the look on P'Mew's face. He leans into his palm and smiles. 

"Let's do this na," says P'Mew. "When we finish a scene, let's do this until we feel like ourselves again."

Gulf would give anything to have this. He can't think of a better way to leave behind the stress and conflict of being Tharn and Type than to do what he and P'Mew do best- hold each other. 

He nods and closes his eyes. "Khrab. Let's do this na." 

P'Pee walks by with an arm full of clothes. He looks at them and sighs. "Finally. I'm sick of you two fighting." He shakes his head and walks away.

_________________

Type reaches for his boyfriend's shirt, grabbing the collar and twisting it up. He wants to remind him who's taller, who actually towers over the other. His eyes are daggers as he looks at Tharn. How could he lie to him like that? Does he think he's a fucking idiot? 

"And why don't you tell me, too, that this kid is your ex boyfriend?" 

The fucking nerve. Tells him he went out with Song, then _the brother of my ex band mate_. Did Tharn think he forgot the story he told him? About how his band broke up because of that kid? Little shit's been causing no end of trouble and Type can't tell who he hates more right now- some punk ass little high schooler or his lying son of a bitch boyfriend. 

Lhong's words ring in his ears. _Tharn was deeply in love. He even wrote songs for Tar. They were so much in love._ Type knows what that means. He knows how consuming Tharn's love can be. How fervid and ardent and faithful… well, so much for faithful.

"So, how was it?" He looks for some sign of a fight in Tharn's eyes. "Did he taste as good as when you were together? Was it satisfying? You hadn't seen him for a year."

His words seem to hurt himself more than they do Tharn. It wasn't enough that some brat had Tharn's love before him, that he'd felt and experienced everything before he did, that he knew what it was like to lie with him and be loved by him- God, he's going to lose it. He's going to lose his shit because of some whiny kid who already had his chance with Tharn and squandered it. The little brat shouldn't get a second chance. And Type shouldn't have to fight him for the man he loves. 

Goddamnit, Tharn. You fucking son of a bitch. So _nice_. Too nice. Goddamnit, why couldn't he just say no? Is he not good enough for Tharn that he'd go crawling back to that crying little shit? After giving Tharn his heart, is it not enough?

"That kid was crying for your attention. Or are you going to tell me P'Tharn who screws around… couldn't get it up?" He's taunting him, but Tharn isn't responding. He isn't denying. Just fight, damnit! He wishes he'd show him that he's willing to fight for him.

His boyfriend reaches for his hands. Type doesn't want him to touch him. And yet he _does_ want him to touch him. He wants Tharn to touch him and only him and is that so bad? Can't he keep Tharn to himself without having to stake his claim against P'San and now some child who thinks he can compete with him? 

And yet he is. That simpering boy is winning. 

"It's not what you think. There's nothing going on." 

Lies. He saw everything. He knows the way Tharn touches his face, wipes his eyes, smooths his hair. He knows, even with Tharn's back to him, what his face looked like and what his eyes looked like. He knows it because he knows what Tharn looks like when he's in love. Just as Tar does. 

"Do you expect me to believe someone who's been lying to me?" It hurts, damnit. Is this how Tharn felt when he told him he would ask Puifai to be his girlfriend? Is this his punishment for hurting him back then? Is this what he has to withstand in order to have Tharn's love all to himself? Because he'll fucking do it. He'll do it if it means Tharn will be his and his alone.

"Does he still affect you?" He wants to hit Tharn. He wants to beat the living shit out of him for making him feel this way. For making him fall for him and admit to people that he's dating a man and for turning him into the thing he hates… but all he really wants to know is if he's the only one. Is he the only one Tharn loves? 

Tharn says nothing. 

"Answer me!" He grabs his shirt again. "Does he affect you?" 

Nothing. Tharn can't even look at him. Goddamnit, Tharn. Why did he do this to him? He never wanted to be like this. He never wanted to love another man. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. Tharn, you asshole. You prick. You motherfucker. 

The worst is that he can forgive it all. The lying, the deceiving, the fucking tender moment with his mewling ex boyfriend. He can forgive everything if Tharn just tells him he's the only one. That's all he wants. The damage is done- he's so pathetically and tragically in love with Tharn that he can never go back to being the person he was. 

"Just deny it and I'll believe everything you say." 

Can't Tharn see that he's begging? Can't he see that he's already willing to forgive him? It can all be over if he would just tell him. And he'll believe it, because Tharn wouldn't lie about something like this. Not this. He'll believe him without question because that's how much he trusts him. Tharn, you bastard. Doesn't he know Type's heart belongs to him, that he could do anything with it and he'd let him? He gave it to him that night, no regrets, no looking back. He gave Tharn his heart and he meant it, God he meant it. Just deny it and I'll believe everything you say. His heart is breaking with every second that Tharn is silent. 

Tharn reaches out for his arm. His eye contact is inconsistent. "I love you with all my heart, Type."

No. No, that's not what he asked. Tharn, you… you… Tharn… just tell me I'm the only one. That's all he has to do.

"Do you expect me to believe someone who can't answer a simple question?" 

He's saying things, pleading and whining things. None of it is what Type wants to hear. None of it is the answer to a question so simple that it hurts. 

"...I'll never meet Tar again." Tharn grabs his hands. 

Goddamnit, he's so fucking sick of hearing about this brat. There's nothing he can do to make it stop, either. If he kicks the guy's ass, he'd be the bad guy, wouldn't he? There goes Type, being an asshole as always. He can't win against a fucking high schooler. 

"I don't want to hear that kid's name in this room." Just give him that much. Give him the dignity of not saying the other guy's name in their home that they share together. The home that Tharn insisted on. Can't they have anything that's just theirs? 

"Type…" he tries to hold him. He doesn't even agree to stop saying his name. Tharn, you fucking monster. 

He pushes him away. "Let go of me." 

He hasn't said that to him since before they started dating. Back then he said it all the time. His constant rejection to the man he loves. Let go of me. Every time- in the shower, on his bed, on Tharn's bed, when Puifai would text him. Let go of me. 

It wasn't because Type didn't want his affection. He wanted it so badly that his heart ached for it, and it terrified him. It terrified him that he was falling head over fucking heels for his stupid handsome roommate who made his heart skip the first time he walked into their dorm room and made him question everything he believed. Let go of me, because if you don't, I won't ever let go of you. 

He told him, didn't he? It's you who are mine, and I'll never let go of you again.

"Where are you going?" 

"None of your goddamn business!" 

He puts on his shoes and leaves. If I'm not the only one, then please let go of me. Because I don't have the strength to do it myself. 

He stands out in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Fuck, he's crying. He's not supposed to be crying. 

The door to their apartment opens, and a crew member comes out. "Nong Gulf kha, you can come back in." 

He nods and walks back into the space. P'Tee calls cut and a wrap for the night. He nods again and makes wai to the crew members around him. He sees Tharn doing the same. Type can't look at him right now. It hurts too much, and he remembers that he's been crying. He hastily wipes at his eyes. 

"Type." He feels a hand on his shoulder.

He turns around, avoiding eye contact with Tharn. He wants the ache in his chest to go away. He wants to forgive him and go back to being happy and falling asleep holding hands and making love on their bed. He wants Tharn all to himself, the only one who kisses him and plays with his ear and lays on his chest. Only him. Just him. 

Tharn pulls on him gently, bringing him into an embrace. He doesn't want it, but at the same time he does. He allows himself to be held. 

"Yai Nong…" Tharn whispers. "Yai Nong, are you okay?" 

Type feels himself growing tired. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He doesn't want to be Type anymore. He wants to be Gulf again.

"It's me, I'm here." P'Mew strokes his hair. "I'm here, Nong." 

Gulf wraps his arms around his senior. He closes his eyes and squeezes him. P'Mew. He pats his back with a closed fist. 

"I'm okay, Khun Phi." 

P'Mew breathes a sigh of relief. "You had me worried." He pulls away and looks at him. "You're crying." He wipes away at his tears. 

Gulf lets him, standing still like the good boy he is, letting his senior take care of him. He smiles, though still somewhat sadly. "Thanks na khrab, Phi." 

"Hm." P'Mew smiles back with his half moons, beautiful and loving as Gulf knows him to be. 

"This was a good idea," he says. He leans in for another hug. "It's like I get to come home to you." 

He senior rubs his back and sighs. "Careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf laughs, poking his senior in the side and laughing harder when he yelps. "You should know by now, Phi, I'm never careful."

______________

"Cut na khrab," says P'Tee. "It's a wrap for tonight." 

Tharn wastes no time in grabbing Type's hand. He pulls him in tight and whispers, "Please don't be mad at me forever. You're the only one." 

Type closes his eyes, a tear streaming down his cheek. He slides his arms around his boyfriend and holds him tight. He inhales the scent of sporty deodorant and expensive cologne. "P'Mew…" 

"Forgive me na?"

"Sshh, P'Mew." He rubs his back. "It's Gulf. I'll always forgive you, Khun Phi." 

He hears his senior sigh. "Yai Nong… I missed you." 

"I missed you, too, Khun Phi." 

_____________

Fuck, he dropped another one. How do people find this relaxing? Gulf grits his teeth and moves his needles. 

"Shia," he mumbles. "All the things in the world and he chooses the grandma hobby?" He holds out the scarf he's knitting. Well, it's supposed to be a scarf. It looks like the skin left behind when a snake sheds. 

Kaprao hums as he loops his needles back and forth. His scarf doesn't look any better, but he seems to be having more fun. "For the record, my grandma hates knitting."

"I like her already."

Kaprao looks at his creation and sighs. "It's a good thing we never need scarves in Thailand." 

Gulf gives a half-hearted laugh. He watches his nong struggle with his knitting. How does he find the motivation to keep at it? He thinks about their friendship so far. When they met on Samet Island, he had no idea they'd stay in touch like this. But if he's learned anything about his junior, it's that he has persistence. Even the hobbies he's dropped had the lifespan of at least a few months. He's happy his nong kept the friendship going. How many times now has Kaprao been there for him through all this P'Mew stuff? 

It occurs to Gulf that he's been selfish. He hasn't taken much time to know his junior, and he really ought to, being the senior and all. Gulf isn't used to being Phi. He knows about nong's hobbies, but that's really it. He doesn't even know his girlfriend's name. 

He tosses his needles and yarn on the coffee table. "Hey, Nong. What's your girlfriend's name?"

"Huh?" He looks up, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. His knitting has somehow gotten worse. "Oh. Fon. Why do you ask?" 

He shrugs. "We never talk about your love life. Just mine, or the lack thereof. How did you two get together?" 

"The first or the second time?" 

"Oh," his eyes travel around the room. "First, I guess?" 

"We met at a creative writing group." Kaprao counts his stitches and frowns. "Damn. What was I saying? Oh! We were partnered on a writing project."

"So, you two hit it off?" 

Kaprao mutters to himself as he knits. "Huh? I mean, kinda." He tosses his needles and yarn on top of Gulf's. "Time for a snack." He heads for the kitchen.

They're sitting on the floor for some reason. Kaprao's idea. _The floor is just a really big seat, if you think about it._ They munch on seaweed crisps from the same bag, leaning against each other's shoulders. It feels nice. Gulf almost forgot what platonic physical affection felt like. 

"The project was to write a story together, each person taking turns writing the next chapter." Krapao crunches into his seaweed. "Each author had to create a character and write their chapter from their character's point of view. And the characters had to interact with each other." 

Gulf nods. He leans further on his nong, helping himself to another crisp. "Let me guess, your characters fell in love with each other?" 

"Even better. They were mortal enemies who used to be friends, but their third friend died and they blame each other for the death." He shakes the seaweed bag to check for more. "Her idea, of course." 

"Seriously?" Gulf's eyes widen as he looks at him. "That's pretty heavy."

Kaprao has a big, dreamy smile on his face. "She's awesome. Anyway, we got really into it. I was the hero and she was the villain." He leans back against the cabinets. "Her villain was this hot-headed, emotional mess. Always on the verge of cussing someone out, always ready for a fight."

Gulf squirms a bit. He thinks he knows where this is going, considering the trend when it comes to talking to Krapao. "Was your character really handsome and neat and irritatingly nice?" 

Kaprao points a finger gun at him, "I like the way you're thinking, Phi." He reaches into the bag for more seaweed. "But no. My character was more of an anti-hero. Alcoholic, thief, cheater at cards. A washed up has-been." 

"Yeah, that's not where I thought this was going."

Kaprao scratches his chin. "Yeah, you're pretty bad at guessing. Anyway, I told you we got really into it. We would talk on the phone or meet up for coffee to discuss our story, mostly our characters."

Oh. Gulf brings a crisp to his mouth but changes his mind. Now he sees where this is going. "Khrab."

"We got super in depth about our characters. We talked about shit that didn't even make it into the story. It was intense, you know?" 

Gulf knows. How many times have he and P'Mew gotten carried away? Hell, they have to hug it out these days to bring themselves out of character. 

Krapao sighs. "Talk about intimate. Like looking into each other's soul or something." He crunches loudly into his crisp. "So, I mean, I had to ask her out. I just had to." 

Gulf rests his head on Kaprao's shoulder. Everything his junior is saying sounds all too familiar, as it always does. Damnit, Krapao. "So, what happened?" Does he even want to know?

"Can't you guess?" 

Gulf does have a guess. But then again he's bad at guessing. "I think… you realized that you weren't your characters? 

"Maybe you're not so bad at this after all." He offers Gulf the last seaweed crisp. "You're right. She had none of the fiery rage of her villain that I admired. In real life, she's the sweetest, most responsible person I know."

"I mean, sweet is good, right?" 

He nods and licks the crumbs off his fingers. "Totally. But if P'Mew turned out to be a completely different person than who you thought he was, even though he still possessed good qualities, would you feel the same about him?"

"Depends on what was different?" Gulf sits up and leans his head against the cabinets. What could possibly be different about P'Mew that he wouldn't still feel the same? 

"What do you like best about him?" 

Gulf hates this question. He knows it's something he'll be asked at interviews, and his answer is always the same. "P'Mew is very caring, especially to his juniors." He even sounds rehearsed when he says it.

Kaprao doesn't notice. "Fuck yeah he is. Did I tell you? He messaged me a pic of him and P'Pee making Wai to the platter of the sanay chan you brought! The caption said, _The real Khun Phi_." His nong is so amused. 

If someone were to ask Gulf what he liked best about Kaprao, the answer would come immediately. His enthusiasm. He's never known someone so curious or so intrepid when it comes to learning new things. Even when he fails, he sees it as an experience. He sees something and he goes for it.

P'Mew, though… Gulf can't think of what he likes best. He can't tell if it's because he likes too many things about him or too few. Maybe he doesn't actually like him. Maybe P'Mew's just hot and good at cuddling and smells nice and kisses really well. But what about his personality? His habits? His pet peeves? 

Gulf wonders if he should learn these things about his senior. He knows the basics- P'Mew likes to study (psh, nerd), he likes pop music (dork), and he likes sweets (cute). But you could learn all that from watching his interviews. Maybe he should make more of an effort. Then again, maybe these things shouldn't be forced.

His junior waves a hand in the air. "Keep going. What do you like about him?" 

Gulf furrows his eyebrows. What is he supposed to say? "He's funny."

Kaprao makes a dismissive sound. "Lots of people are funny. What's unique about P'Mew? What makes him special to you?" 

Fuck. The little shit's onto something. He whines and rests his head on Kaprao's shoulder again.

"Been there, buddy." 

Gulf looks up, his eyes round and imploring. "So what happened with you and Fon?" 

Kaprao winces. "We broke up. It was awkward, you know? The sex was incredible, but outside of that we had nothing to talk about." 

_The sex was incredible._ Gulf thinks back on the flirting, the kisses that exceed their rating, their hard-ons during love scenes, and that time with the boyfriend shirt. There's no denying he and P'Mew have crazy sexual chemistry. It's why they were cast. They chose each other at auditions. Nobody else could be his Tharn, and nobody else could be his Type. 

But what about Mew and Gulf? What are they to each other? 

_________________

It wasn't Gulf's fault. He was being so careful. He's always so careful. It wasn't his fault, but he still has to pay. 

"Probably two weeks," the mechanic tells him. "The dents are pretty bad." 

Gulf looks at the damage to his car. So careful. Ever since he got his license, he's been such a safe driver. But none of that matters when the other driver is a moron. The guy ran a red light. It's not uncommon in Bangkok, but if you have to drive recklessly, you should at least be good at it. Gulf nods at the mechanic and pulls out his phone. 

"Sawadee-khrab, P'Tee." He looks at his watch. "I'm calling a taxi now. I'll be there within the hour khrab." 

He hears P'Tee repeat the news to someone else. "Which mechanic shop? Nong Mew says he'll pick you up. We're shooting the Tar and Tum scenes anyway." Gulf gives him the directions. 

P'Mew sings along with the music as he drives them to the set. Another old love song. 

"This song is from my mother's time," says Gulf. "Are you really only 28?" 

P'Mew laughs. "It's from my mom's time, too. I grew up to it." 

"You still didn't answer my question." 

More laughter. "Why? Is it weird playing a couple with someone much older?" Is that a hint of concern in P'Mew's voice?

Truthfully, P'Mew has nothing to worry about. Gulf has never had an issue with their age difference. 21 and 28 isn't so bad, anyway. He'd say that he hasn't noticed it, but that would be a lie. From the very beginning, Gulf found it comforting to have someone older and wiser to turn to for advice. He even admitted at the TEP interview that he felt P'Mew would protect him. Was that not clear enough? 

But there's something else, too. Something secret and exciting about being with an older man. Something about P'Mew's experience of kissing other men and being in love scenes with them. Of knowing how to make men gasp and moan and cry out. Maybe even in real life. The thought alone is often enough to make Gulf hard and set his mind on a series of fantasies. 

"No," he tells Mew. "I like it better this way. You have more experience for me to learn from. And Khun Phi takes care of me." 

His senior laughs. "Yai Nong likes to be spoiled, I think." 

More like Yai Nong thinks it's hot. He also admitted to that in the TEP interview, that he prefers someone who's older. Does P'Mew even listen to him? He rolls his eyes and mutters, "Already said I like older in the TEP interview, does he need a replay?" 

"Hm?"

"Does Khun Phi need hearing aids na?" He raises his volume. "I said I like that you're older." He shakes his head.

P'Mew smiles and reaches over to pat his tummy. "Careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf laughs and leans back in his seat. "I'd be okay with that. Khun Phi is very good to me." 

P'Mew doesn't say anything. He laughs and resumes singing. Gulf loves his voice.

______________________

Lately, it's felt like a teen romance movie. P'Mew said he'd give Gulf a ride to and from work until his car was fixed, and it's been weird spending more time together as Mew and Gulf. Wasn't this what he wanted, though? A chance to see what things are like off set?

The reason it feels like a teen romance movie is because P'Mew does those things. The boyfriend things. The things that make Gulf feel giddy and special. He always gets out of the car when he picks him up. He always takes Gulf's bag and opens the door for him. He puts his bag in the back seat and -no joke- straps it in with a seatbelt, and the aircon is always pointed at his face. It makes him feel warm, despite the cool air. His Khun Phi takes such good care of him. That damn Prince Charming.

And then, for the forty-five minutes it takes to get through the Bangkok traffic, they talk as Mew and Gulf. He remembers what it was like in the beginning, not knowing what to say to P'Mew. Being intimidated by his handsome new co-star, the one he singled out from all the other guys at the audition. The only one who made him shy and turn red. The one he chose but never thought he'd get paired with. And now, he can't think of what not to tell him. Well, apart from his innocent-not-so-innocent crush on him. Everything else is pretty much fair game. 

**Tuesday evening:**

"Khun Phi khrab, I have something to ask you." 

"Hm?" 

"What's your biggest fear?" 

"Alai?" 

"What are you afraid of?" 

"...lizards?" 

Not what he meant, but whatever. 

**Wednesday morning:**

"Khun Phi khrab, I've got a question."

"...khrab?" 

"Don't look at me like that. Would you rather lose the ability to read, or lose the ability to speak?" 

"Noooo… if I don't answer, will there be a punishment?" 

"Of course." Hasn't he ever seen a game show? "I get to tickle you for 30 seconds." 

"Reading," he says immediately. "I'd rather lose reading. I love studying, but at least for fiction, there are audio books."

"Should have known. You love talking too much." 

His senior pokes his tummy. "Yai Nong is so mean."

**Wednesday evening:**

P'Mew reaches for the music player. 

Gulf slaps his hand. "No more K-pop." 

**Thursday morning:**

"Khun Phi khrab, I have a question." 

"I must have done something bad in a past life." 

"Shh, I'm going to ask now. What's something your parents don't know about you?" 

"Um...I paid a lot more for Chopper than what I told my mom?"

"No, that's lame. Tell me something secret."

P'Mew's eyebrows furrow. "Why is Yai Nong so curious all of a sudden?" 

Gulf doesn't hesitate. "Because when I look into Khun Phi's eyes, I see mystery. But I want to see you." 

Mew is silent for a while. Gulf can't read his reaction. He can't tell what his Phi is feeling. It's exactly the kind of mystery he's talking about. Behind the humor and mirth and shameless flirting is a Mew Suppasit that Gulf can't touch. He's only seen him on rare occasions- the dark look during the boyfriend shirt scene, the disappointed/relieved look in the dressing room, and the sadness when he told Gulf that it's easier to do crying scenes the more times your heart is broken. It's the same Mew who looks sad when he thinks nobody's watching, the one who looks at him sometimes with a question hanging from his lips that he never asks. A question that he might be afraid to ask. And Gulf wants to know it and answer it. 

P'Mew scratches his head. "Let me think on it and get back to you, okay na?" 

Gulf huffs and looks out the window. "Khrab."

**Friday evening:**

"Khun Phi khrab-" 

"No."

"But you don't even know-" 

P'Mew turns up the music. Fucking K-pop.

**Saturday morning:**

P'Mew reaches for Gulf's hand at a stoplight. "Okay na." 

"Khrab?" 

"What's your question?" 

Gulf squeezes his hand. "How many times have you been in love?" 

P'Mew exhales loudly. "Wow. Couldn't save that for the evening question?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "It couldn't wait." 

His senior sneaks a glance at him. "Why?" 

"Because I still see mystery." 

P'Mew looks troubled. "How many times for you?" 

Gulf looks down at the floor mat. His senior is usually too distracted by his questions to ask them back. What should he say? If he tells him the truth (zero), will it make things weird between them? 

"I asked you first," he says. He looks at their hands still clasped together. He loves how well they fit. They don't hold hands much on the show. Mew and Gulf do it more often than Tharn and Type. Then again, haven't they always been more physically affectionate than their characters? 

P'Mew pulls his hand back. Gulf's hand is left cold from their aircon, and he shoves it underneath his thigh to keep it warm.

His senior nods. "Okay na. How many times have I been in love?" 

"Khrab." 

"Too many, I'd say." His laugh has a bitterness to it. "Or maybe not enough."

"Not enough?" 

His jaw is clenched, eyebrows drawn together. It's that other P'Mew he's seeing now. "Not enough to learn my lesson." He pats Gulf on the leg. "No more questions today na?"

"No more today, Khun Phi."

**Sunday evening:**

P'Mew looks over at him. "You're quiet."

"I'm a quiet person."

"Not with me you aren't."

"Hmph. Khun Phi thinks he's special?" 

"There's a moon shell on my night stand that says so." 

Gulf stares at him. He keeps it on his night stand? Next to his bed? He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "Not on your bookshelf next to P'Pee's heart?"

"That's for decoration. But the shell- that's just for me." 

"Khrab." He looks out the window and smiles. Does this mean he's special, too? "Khun Phi khrab?" 

"There it is." 

"You're the one who started it. I was being quiet, remember?" 

"Okay okay. What question does Yai Nong have for me today?" 

"Would you rather have fame, money, or true love?" 

P'Mew laughs, but not genuinely. "Where does Yai Nong get these questions, BuzzFeed?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "Me. I want to know."

"You want to solve the mystery?"

"I want to know Khun Phi better than anyone." He should feel shy saying such a thing. He should feel shy saying a lot of things, but being straightforward is his own way of showing affection. As if to say, _I won't hide from you. I'll always show you who I am._

Another fake laugh. "So, if I say fame, I'm vain. If I say money, I'm greedy. And if I say true love, I'm a fool." 

Alai wa? "Why a fool?" 

A bitter laugh this time. "Because I keep choosing it and I keep regretting it. But I choose it again every time."

Gulf squirms around in his seat. "Then none of them were true love."

"Ah, but that's why I'm a fool." He stops at a red light and looks at him. There's something like torment simmering right under the surface. Gulf can see it, even though his senior tries to conceal it. "I'm a fool, because I haven't learned my lesson."

"Which is what?" 

"That true love doesn't exist." He gives him a sad smile. "I'd warn you, but perhaps Yai Nong wants to get better at crying?" The light changes and P'Mew looks back at the road. 

Gulf shrugs. "Then I win either way. I can improve my acting, or I can find true love." 

P'Mew laughs, a somewhat real laugh this time. "I'll see you at the Oscars. Or perhaps you'll have both one day." 

"Yes, and he'll be my date at the Oscars." 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. He just said… _he_. Shia. He looks around the car, eyes looking for an answer that isn't there. Gulf, you fucking idiot.

"She," he says desperately. "I meant she, of course. All this arguing is making my brain hurt." He turns to face the window, resting his head against the glass. So much for not hiding, for always showing who he is. 

Keeping this secret feels so alien to Gulf. He wants to share so much of himself with people, and especially with P'Mew. Most of the time he's too introverted to put himself out there, but if prompted, he's always open and generous with his answers. But not about this. Not when there are too many things against him, too many things at stake, and not enough fortitude in his naive little heart. 

Neither of them say anything for the rest of the drive.

**Monday morning:**

Gulf decides to be nice today. He will ask P'Mew about his favorite member of Blackpink. He's been learning about them all week. Their names, their songs. He knows one of them is Thai. Of course the little spunky one. It makes him proud to see Lisa (it's Lisa, right?) showing the world how fun and warm and lovable Thai people are. 

He lets P'Mew open the door for him and waits for him to start driving. "Khun Phi khrab? Who's your favorite member of Black-"

"Twice." 

"...pink." Gulf pauses. "Wa ngi na?" _What did you say?_

P'Mew's jaw is set firm and his eyes look dark. "I've had my heart broken a few times, but I've only been in love twice." 

Gulf doesn't know what to do now that he has an answer. His brain won't give him any instructions. "Um, my favorite is Lisa…"

P'Mew laughs, softly at first, then steadily louder. He reaches over and pinches Gulf's stomach. "What will I do with my Yai Nong?" 

Gulf knows this answer already. "Whatever you want." 

**Monday evening:**

"Khun Phi kh-"

"Yai Nong khrab?" 

Gulf looks at his senior with big eyes. "Khrab?"

"Would you rather lose reading or speaking?" 

Hmph. He grins at him. "Reading. I'll just have Khun Phi read to me."

A small smile appears on P'Mew's face. "Fame, money, or true love?" 

Gulf doesn't hesitate. "True love. Every time until I find it." 

His senior shakes his head, but his smile doesn't fade. "What do you fear the most?" 

Gulf can feel his hands start to sweat and his ears burning up. His small, babyish ears that reveal his shyness every time. He remembers the questions he's asked P'Mew this past week, and he knows which ones are left. "Spending the rest of my life alone with nobody to love. Or for the people I love to stop loving me back." 

Something flickers in P'Mew's eyes, but it's gone too quickly for Gulf to identify. "How many times have you been in love?" 

Gulf looks down again, embarrassed by his inexperience. What does his senior see when he looks at him? A child? A boy who knows nothing about life or love or heartache? A little shit who asks intrusive questions and controls the radio? 

"I've never been in love."

It's a few seconds before P'Mew speaks again. "What's something your parents don't know about you?" 

Gulf squeezes his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms. _I won't hide from you. I'll always show you who I am._ He takes a deep breath. "That I've never been in love before, but I might be." 

More silence. Another unreadable expression on P'Mew's face. Did he screw up? Did he ruin things? Did he scare him off with his juvenile infatuation? He wishes he would just say something. Panic rises from his gut to his chest. He's surprised it took this long for it to kick in, but then again he's with P'Mew. They've been through so much that he didn't expect he'd feel this kind of panic with him. 

The silence is overwhelming. He never thought he'd miss the sound of K-pop. Though, to be fair, it's starting to grow on him. And the fact that BlackPink songs have rap in them, well, Gulf's willing to call them a compromise. He shakes his head. He's lost track of what's going on. Oh, right. Nothing. 

P'Mew sighs and gives him a smile. "My favorite is Jennie." 

Shia. Gulf exhales the breath he was holding. "Jennie's a brat." It's what he's heard, anyway. 

His senior laughs and rubs his tummy. "I like brats." 

What the hell is that supposed to mean?


	10. Shadowplay

Gulf leans back on his senior's chest. He's wearing his sappy, dopey smile again, but he doesn't care. There's probably a behind the scenes camera that's eating it all up. Mew's arms wrap tighter around his waist, adjusting him in his lap. He shows his senior his phone screen. 

"And that's the second scarf I did." He zooms in on the blue yarn. "That one is my best stitch." 

P'Mew chuckles and points at it. "That one? Your best stitch?" He practically nuzzles into Gulf's neck. "You kept track of which stitch was best?" 

"Duh." He leans closer. His smile grows wider when P'Mew doesn't move away. "Knitting is hard. You wouldn't know."

"Maybe Nong Kaprao will teach me, then."

Gulf makes a disappointed sound. "Aw. Khun Phi isn't going to ask me to teach him?"

P'Mew points at the phone screen. "Not when that's your best stitch." He laughs and moves even closer. His cheek and lips are actually resting against Gulf's neck now. 

Warm doesn't even begin to cover how Gulf feels. Tingly, maybe. Fluttering, yes. He squirms a little in his Phi's embrace. Not because he's ticklish (he isn't, but he wishes he were sometimes), but because every time he moves, P'Mew seems to hold him tighter and reposition him on his lap.

As if on cue, his senior grips him tightly at his hips, causing him to gasp. 

"Shia, are you okay?" P'Mew looks up at him. Already his hands are rubbing gentle circles where he grabbed him. Gulf loves how caring his senior is. He loves the contrast between his two touches.

"It's okay," he snuggles back against him. "Just got startled. I don't mind it rough."

His senior freezes. "Uh-huh," he pokes him in the tummy. "That's because you're the rough one." 

"Wa ngi na?" Rude. 

P'Mew laughs and looks up at him. "Mhm. All those times P'Tee had to tell you, _gently, Gulf._ _You're caressing your lover, not petting a dog._ "

Gulf rolls his eyes. He stands and repositions himself sideways in Mew's lap so he can glare at him properly. "Wasn't I, though?" He pats his senior on the head with audible pat pat pat noises. 

The look he receives makes him giggle. P'Mew is unamused. "As a dog owner, I'm hesitant to let you near my baby." 

"Your baby?" Gulf leans in to tease him. "Does Khun Phi use baby talk na? Tell me it's true. Naaa, naaa. It'll make my day." 

P'Mew's laughter shakes them both. He snuggles into Gulf's chest, murmuring something about how cruel his Yai Nong is blah blah blah. 

Gulf runs his fingers through his hair. He wishes he got to do it more often on the show, now that he knows how to do it properly. He just had to be shown how. "See na? I can be gentle."

He feels P'Mew rub his back. "Yeah, now." He squeezes at Gulf's tummy. "Do you remember how you used to touch me?" 

Gulf remembers. He remembers nearly every time he's touched P'Mew. How can he not? He's the first man he's ever touched that way. He imagines not many people forget the first time they scratch someone's back in the throes of passion. Or on camera. Whichever happens first.

He gives his Khun Phi a challenging look. "Show me."

Gulf takes in the sight of P'Mew's large, imploring eyes. Eyes that look at him with curiosity but also fear. He wants to calm those fears and satiate that curiosity. He'd like to kiss P'Mew's eyelids and tell him there's nothing to be afraid of. He just hopes that he's right, and that those fears are something he can help with. 

The look is gone all too soon, replaced by the playfulness that Gulf loves so much. P'Mew smirks and pokes him in the belly again. "I guess you don't remember because you weren't the one who was manhandled." 

Manhandled. As if. Gulf squishes his senior's cheeks between his hands. "I didn't know Khun Phi was so delicate." 

His senior pouts. "Aw. Why can't you be more tender with me?" Shia, he's so cute. He hates when his Khun Phi is cute, because he'll want to tease him even more so that he'll continue to be cute and, well, it's a vicious cycle. 

Gulf loosens his pressure on P'Mew's face. He strokes his cheek with his thumb and smiles. "You mean like this?" 

P'Mew's eyes are soft and loving. The cutie smitten eyes that give Gulf that anti-gravity feeling. "Khrab." 

Gulf runs his fingers through his hair again, stroking down to rest at his neck. "How about like this?" 

"Khrab." Mew's eyes are so dreamy like this. So affectionate. 

He leans in to look at him, and he swears that for just a moment, it looked like P'Mew was leaning in, too. "I told you I can be gentle." 

It's that other Mew who looks back at him. The one whose question goes unanswered, even as it sits on his lips. If Gulf could answer those questions with his own lips, he would. P'Mew only needs to ask. 

His senior tightens his grip around him, squeezing his hips so hard they might bruise. His eyes look dark again. "Khrab. You can be gentle, and I can be rough." 

_________________

It can't be a house. It just can't be. Gulf gets out of the studio van and takes in the building before him. This is supposed to be Tharn's home? He knew the guy was rich, but damn. 

Nong Kaownah whistles behind him. He throws an arm around Gulf's shoulder. "Can we pick a man or what?" He raises his eyebrows and grins. "I'm gonna check out the pool." He waves and rushes off. 

Gulf smiles at his junior. He likes Kaownah, which he supposes is a very good thing, considering their fight scene later. You always want someone you like to do the fake choking, especially with a character as psychotic as Lhong. 

He feels someone grab his hands from behind him. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at P'Mew. "My house could fit inside this thing twice, maybe three times." 

P'Mew nods. He releases Gulf's hands and hugs his tummy. "Wanna sneak up to my room?" 

Gulf already knows his ears are turning red. He knows P'Mew is joking around and that it's part of their dynamic, but he feels the fluttering in his stomach anyway. Yes, he'd love to sneak up to his room. He'd love to hide away and do naughty things that would make his senior blush.

"And do what?" He places his arms over P'Mew's and starts swaying from side to side as he guides them toward the house, the two of them waddling like penguins. His senior squeezes at his tummy, and Gulf feels so, so warm. 

They stop near the front and P'Mew points at a window. "Hmm…maybe that's it." He leans his head against Gulf's. "We could build a fort."

"Ah." He likes the idea of hiding under blankets with him. "What else?" 

"Shadow puppets?" 

"What? No." Is that the best use of his hands that Khun Phi can think of? 

P'Mew makes a disappointed noise. "But I can do a really good rabbit." 

Alai? Gulf smacks his senior's hands and pulls away. He stares at him with wide eyes. "Is that your secret talent?" 

What is that expression? Deer in headlights? P'Mew stares with eyes so big that Gulf's laugh is much louder than he anticipated. His senior leans forward with laughter, sheepish and conceding. 

He pulls Gulf into his arms and resumes the swaying back and forth. "Yai Nong, Yai Nong…" he groans as his arms tighten around him. "You always manage to have your way with me, don't you?" 

Alai wa? He pulls back again. "Wa ngi na?" He looks at his senior in disbelief. Have his way with him? Since fucking when? 

P'Mew looks confused yet amused. "You don't think so? Who chooses what video games we play?" 

Wow, really? Gulf rolls his eyes. "Schoolboy stuff. I'd let you pick more often if you had better taste in games." 

P'Mew shakes his head. "So mean. You can't even deny it."

"I'll let you pick next time." 

"You'll let me? See, right there!" He points at Gulf's face. 

He shakes his head and grabs P'Mew's hand. "Come on." He pulls him toward the house. 

They remove their shoes at the front, and P'Mew is all over him again. His hands snake around his waist. "When we travel in the van, who chooses the seats?" 

Gulf frees himself and crosses his arms. "You always sit in the front row, and then you spend the whole time straining your neck looking back to talk to everyone!" He pushes on P'Mew's chest. "See if I look out for you ever again." He turns to enter the house.

"Who decides when we stop kissing?" 

Alai fucking wa? Gulf looks around, wishing there were instructions somewhere on how to deal with this. He turns back around. "Are you saying it's been up to me?" 

His senior is so painfully handsome. How does he manage to look at him day after day, kissing him and lying in bed with him? P'Mew's eyes are mischievous and playful. "If the script doesn't say that Tharn stops first, I just keep kissing you." He leans forward and smirks. "Didn't you notice?" 

No. He was too busy kissing. He was waiting for P'Mew to stop, because until then, he would just keep on kissing. But then… how did they ever stop? 

P'Mew sighs and throws his arm around Gulf's shoulder. "Let's go see my house na." He leans in toward his ear. "Maybe I'll steal you away later." They head for the front door.

Gulf gives him a petulant look. "And what, I'll have my way with you?" 

His senior laughs harder. "I shouldn't have told you." He squeezes his arm. "But you can't deny it. Who controls the music in the car? And the aircon? And the-"

Gulf places his hand over P'Mew's mouth. "Okay na, I get it." 

P'Mew mumbles against his hand. Gulf tilts his head and smiles. Now, where has he seen this before? He raises an eyebrow. "If I release you, will you be a good boy?" 

P'Mew shakes his head. 

"Good answer." Gulf removes his hand and slaps him lightly on the face. "I'm free around 3, if you're in the mood for kidnapping."

___________________

4:27. It was a long shot, anyway. He spots P'Run with his camera for the vlog and waves. 

"Nong, I just spent ten minutes trying to find the bathroom. Is this a house or an airport?" 

"Mission Control for the Thai Space Program." 

P'Run pats him on the arm. "Don't tell anyone I used the bushes na." 

They laugh until someone shushes them. "You're joking, right Phi?"

"The world will never know." He winks and walks off. 

Gulf wanders around the part of the house where they won't be filming. The kitchen, the home office, the game room. Who has a game room? He looks at the billiard table and has a flashing image of him and P'Mew making out on top of it, the multicolored balls rolling around them. Gulf shakes his head and keeps walking. He finds the bathroom near the stairs- the second set of stairs. P'Run left his sunglasses on the counter and Gulf slips them into his pocket. 

"Psst."

He turns to find P'Mew sneaking toward him. "We have five minutes," he whispers. He grabs Gulf's hand and takes off at a run up the stairs. They giggle all the way up, stopping at the top to catch their breath and shush each other. P'Mew holds his hand through the hallway as they peek into the different bedrooms. 

"Which one do you think is mine?"

"Gee, maybe that one?" Gulf points at the door with the lighting equipment stacked in front of it.

P'Mew giggles and peeks inside. "Hm. I have good taste." 

Gulf squeezes his hand. "Of course you do. You picked me, didn't you?" 

P'Mew turns to him and smiles. There's something in those half moon eyes that makes Gulf feel warm and melty and at the same time hot and incendiary. Maybe it's P'Mew's thumb brushing his hand or the closeness of their bodies, or the hushed atmosphere upstairs, but Gulf senses something's changed between them and he likes the way it feels. 

"Looks like your room is a little crowded," he whispers, pulling P'Mew toward the next room over. 

"Khrab."

Neither of them turn on the lights. Gulf waits for his senior to follow him inside before he shuts the door and leans against it. 

P'Mew chuckles. "I thought I was kidnapping you. Am I your prisoner now?"

Gulf smiles and nods. "I always have my way." 

His senior takes a step closer. "I, of all people, should know that." His voice has that roughness to it that Gulf's only heard once before. That day with the white shirt, when things started getting out of hand. Now here they are again, no director, no rating, no crew to keep them in check. Just Mew and Gulf. 

"Does it bother Khun Phi?" He raises an eyebrow. A challenge. A dare.

Another step closer. "Why should it?" Another step more. "I let you have your way with me." 

His breath hitches. Is this really happening? P'Mew is so close. It would be so easy to reach out and pull him in. But Gulf wants him to come to him, to know that Mew wants this just as badly as he does. He wants- needs to know that it's not unrequited. He wants to know if it's real. 

Gulf remembers the script. "Then, let me have my way all night." 

P'Mew closes his eyes. He lets out a breath, and when he opens them, his gaze is dark and full of longing. Closer still, until their shirts brush against each other, P'Mew's hand resting on his hip. So close that Gulf can't tell whose heart he's hearing. 

"P'Mew…"

"Gulf." The roughness in his voice makes his name sound harsh. "We should go back na. Our time is up."

P'Mew's hand releases his hip and turns the door knob. Gulf doesn't fight, doesn't lean on the door anymore. He quietly stands away, feeling his chest grow heavier and heavier with every second that P'Mew avoids looking at him. 

What just happened? What almost happened? Gulf was so sure… but now he doesn't know anything. 

P'Mew pulls the door open. Already the air from outside is giving him a chill. He knows what's coming next, the frosty ride home and the chilly night in bed. The frozen morning and the scalding shower that can't get him warm enough. Nothing can get him warm the way he wants. Nothing except...

The door is cold against his palm. He presses it back against the frame until it clicks. P'Mew's hand is still on the knob, and he pushes on his thumb to lock it. 

"Gulf."

He fishes around his pocket for his phone. He smiles at his senior's startled expression and shines the flashlight on his face. 

"Fuck!" P'Mew blocks the light with his hand. "Yai Nong!" 

Gulf laughs and wraps his arms around him. "Sorry na, Khun Phi." He leans forward and presses a kiss to each of P'Mew's eyelids. "Don't be angry with me, Khun Phi." 

"Alai wa..." His voice is harsh, but already he's laughing and hugging him back. P'Mew is notoriously hot-headed, but by now Gulf knows how to handle him. He maneuvers behind his senior for a back hug. "Will you show me the rabbit na khrab?" He rests his chin on Mew's shoulder. "Naaa naa?" 

P'Mew groans. "If I haven't gone blind. Why are you such a brat?" 

Gulf squeezes him around the waist. "Because you like brats." 

"I also like nice people. Why don't you try being one of those?" 

Gulf has pissed off his Khun Phi enough times to know when the worst is over. It was a calculated risk, but he knows how to win over his senior. 

"Khun Phiiiiiii…" he uses the soft, cute voice that P'Mew can never say no to. "Sorry na, Phi. I'll be a good boy na. Do you forgive me?" He waits the customary three seconds before he pokes his belly. 

"Shia! Gulf!" He shoves his arms away and turns to face him. 

Gulf stands on his toes and presses another kiss, this time to his forehead. He lingers there for a moment, as P'Mew's hands come to rest at his waist. How easily he could have kissed his lips, but how hard it would have been to stop. He pulls back and smiles. P'Mew looks stunned. He could get used to seeing him like that. Speechless Mew is a rare thing. Gulf shines the light against the darkest wall and clears his throat. 

His senior groans. "Okay na, you little shit. I'm only going to do it once, okay?" He uses both hands in front of the flashlight to make- shia, it really does look like a rabbit. Gulf giggles as P'Mew makes it hop. He wraps his free arm around him again. 

"Show me another one." 

P'Mew chuckles and repositions his hands. This time he makes a goat. 

Gulf laughs loudly and muffles himself against the back of P'Mew's shirt. He rubs up and down on his tummy. "One more?" 

"You always have your way with me," P'Mew grumbles. He makes a bull. 

Gulf laughs and gives him his final kiss, a peck on the cheek. "You let me." He turns off the flashlight and reaches for the doorknob. "Are you ready na khrab, Khun Phi?" 

Gulf doesn't know what he sees in P'Mew's eyes. It's not his P'Mew who looks at him, it's the other one. But if he had to guess, he'd say it was something like gratitude. Things could have gone so differently, Gulf knows that. Between his impulsive nature and P'Mew's lack of forethought, who knows how this could have ended? But Gulf is tired of the cold and the polarizing nature of their relationship. He wants to stay where it's warm, and he suspects his senior does, too. 

P'Mew looks down and nods, and when he looks back up, his eyes are back to those beautiful half moons, bathing Gulf in their mysterious gaze. "Khrab. Ready." 

They hold hands back down the hallway, back down the stairs. P'Mew starts to let go, but Gulf grabs him and squeezes one last time before releasing him. 

P'Pee comes around the corner and sighs. "You better not have gotten any stains on my costumes." He waves them over. "Come on, we're wrapping early, it's going to storm." 

They approach the van and Gulf disengages from P'Mew's hold to chase after P'Run. "Phi khrab, your sunglasses." 

He takes them and smiles. "I was looking for them! Where were they?" 

Gulf winks at him. "In the bushes."

P'Mew chooses a seat at the back of the van, as Gulf always suggests. Gulf heads to the front, since he always sleeps and never talks, but P'Mew tugs on his hand and pulls him to the back. 

"Sleep with me?"

"Alai?"

His senior chuckles. "In the van. What are you thinking, hm? Here, you can sleep on me. I'm tired, too." He eases Gulf down against his chest. 

He's smiling again, snuggling up to his senior, his smile growing wider as everyone in the van makes a collective ooooyyy! at the two of them. Gulf nuzzles closer and gives them all a smug look. 

Kaownah taps his arm. "Since you've got hubby to sleep on, can I borrow your travel pillow?" 

"Mai." No. "Hand it over." 

"Stingy." 

P'Mew shakes him. "Brat." He takes the pillow from Kaownah before Gulf can grab it. "You have to share. Khun Phi or the pillow?" 

P'Mild turns around and raises his hand. "I'll take Khun Phi! Mew, give the boy his pillow." He nudges his arm. 

Gulf laughs so hard he can't see anymore. He feels so warm and squishy. "Kaownah, how about we cuddle, then?" 

His junior nods. "Khrab. I thought you'd never ask. Get over here, big boy." 

"Aw, are you calling me fat?" 

P'Mild smacks Kaownah on the shoulder. "It's P'Mew who got fat, remember?" 

"Ow!" P'Mew buries his head in Gulf's neck. "Everyone is so mean to me." 

Gulf does love when his Khun Phi acts cute. And it always makes him want to tease him more. He rubs his back and shushes him. "Khun Phi is such a crybaby. P'Mild, he's all yours." 

He looks up to find Mild and Kaownah mimicking their pose, with Mild as Mew. "Hm? Wa ngi na?" 

________________

Gulf feels that sweet ache behind his thighs as he stretches to reach the floor. He looks over at Krapao, whose palms are flat on his mat. Psh. He can do that. Maybe. He looks down at his own yoga mat. He pushes himself to touch it with the tips of his fingers. 

"I can hear you straining, Phi." Kaprao's voice always takes on an airy, floaty tone when they do yoga. 

"So, what am I supposed to do?"

His junior chuckles. "You let it go, of course. Exhale. Allow yourself to get used to it little by little until it's no longer a struggle. Some things can't be forced."

Gulf rolls his eyes. "Are we talking about yoga still?" 

"Of course, Phi, why do you ask?" 

"Uh-huh. Some things can't be forced? You aren't..."

"Aaaaand rise up, both arms extended above your head."

"...trying to imply…" 

"Reach up and back, feel the stretch."

"...that I'm forcing things to…"

"Hold it for a breath."

"...happen between me and…"

"Now we go into the swan dive. Relax your arms."

"...P'Mew?"

"And let it go. Exhale. Bend forward, arms falling down at the sides, lower your abdomen and pause for a breath."

"I knew it." Gulf smacks his hand on the mat.

"Huh? Did you say something, Phi?"

Damnit Kaprao. 

After yoga they move Krapao's papasan chair under the aircon to cool down. Gulf even uses a handheld fan to direct the airflow at his face. 

His junior looks over at him. "I take it things are going well, then." He gestures at the fan.

Gulf wipes the sweat from his forehead. "This is a really shitty way to gauge my relationship."

"Relationship?"

Gulf smacks him on the leg. "Calm down, you know what I mean." 

Kaprao laughs and leans on his shoulder to catch some of the air. "I know what you mean, Phi. But do you?" 

"Can't you let me cool down first before you do that thing?"

His junior looks up at him with such a fake look of innocence that Gulf laughs out loud. "I have no idea what you're talking about, P'Gulf khrab."

Gulf ruffles his hair and brings his head back down to his shoulder. Little shit. "Why do I feel like everyone has an idea except me?" 

Kaprao grabs the fan and waves it more evenly at them. "Because you're actually in a coma and the rest of us are just subconscious figments of your memories and imagination." 

"Alai wa?"

"Sorry!" His junior laughs and pats him on the stomach. "Couldn't help it. I'm trying out a new plot with Fon. What do you think?"

Gulf snatches the fan back. "I almost shit my pants. Don't do that again."

"I won't. I like this chair too much." 

Gulf shakes his head. He did predict that his nong would be the death of him. "So, finish your story about you and Fon. How did you get back together?" 

Kaprao reaches into his pocket and pulls out his fidget snake. Gulf's seen it before. It's a series of interlocking plastic pieces that can move like a little snake. Probably 15 cm long. Another of his junior's ADHD coping things. He twists it around in his hands as he talks. 

"Well, we broke up, but we still had the writing project to finish. That's always awkward, you know? Having to work with someone after things get weird with them…" he gives Gulf a sheepish look. 

"I'm aware."

"But like I said, she's very responsible, and she was professional about it." He wraps the snake around his finger. "Things could have been awful, but she continued to be nice."

"That's big of her."

Kaprao smiles that big, dreamy smile of his. "Yeah, she's like that. Always the bigger person. She doesn't like conflict." 

Gulf raises an eyebrow. "So, you realized you liked that better than her hot-headed villain?" 

He shrugs. "It was definitely preferable. But we were far from getting back together."

"Oh."

Kaprao scratches his head. "Damn, it was probably… six months before we got back together."

"Shia. Six months? What happened in all that time?"

His junior laughs, shaking the chair. "You make it sound agonizing, Phi. It's a relationship, not a movie. Over those six months we became proper friends." 

"You had amazing sex with her and then you just became… friends?" 

Kaprao points a finger gun at him. "Khrab. We tried lovers and it didn't work out. But, I mean, she was still really cool." He twirls his fidget snake around like a helicopter blade. "And it was easier this time around. There was no pressure of flirting or trying to look cool. We could just be ourselves."

Fuck. Is this the Kaprao nugget of wisdom for today? He shoves the fan into his junior's hand so he can bury his face in his shoulder. Kaprao's shirt smells like laundry detergent and sun. He lets his nong shift his arms so he can hold him. 

"Hey, you okay, Phi?" He rubs his arm. "You know I never actually mean for my stories to mirror your… thing… with P'Mew, right? It's just coincidence." 

Gulf knows. At a deeper level, he knows. It doesn't make it feel any less shitty. He thinks about the past few days, how much flirtier they've been. He thinks about that moment alone in the bedroom, how things could have gone in so many directions. Things get weird between them whenever the atmosphere becomes more… sexual? Romantic? Their relationship is like some weird thermostat. When they fight, it's cold. When they flirt, they overheat. The only safe place is where it's warm. 

Kaprao squeezes his arm. "So, six months." He angles the fan at them. "We started learning things about each other. Like how she's a perfectionist. She gets anxious about making a mistake, and it gives her a lot of stress. But once she makes a mistake, then it's like the pressure of keeping it perfect is gone."

"Huh?"

"I know, I'm still trying to figure it out." He shakes his head. "But I suggested she start off by making a tiny mistake that nobody would notice, that way the pressure would be off right away. Like adding an extra space in her research paper. It's undetectable, but just knowing that it can never be perfect means she doesn't have to worry about achieving the impossible."

Gulf scratches his head. "So… it helps?" 

"Yeah, that's the important part."

Gulf nods. "So, you learned more about each other's habits and behaviors, not just trivial facts?"

"Khrab. Like she learned that I can't keep track of anything, so she helped me organize my room in a way that made sense. Everything is according to character." 

"Alai?" 

"Different parts of my room are assigned to a different fictional character. And the things that go in that part of the room are things that would belong to that character." 

"I think I get it?"

Kaprao laughs. "It's weird, I know. So, let's say I don't know where my origami paper is. I think about which character would do origami, and that's where the paper is. Or if I want to find my camera, I think about which character is a photographer." 

Gulf smiles to himself. It's the perfect system for his nong. "She came up with this?"

"Khrab. She knows how I think." He shrugs. "But it took six months for her to learn that about me." 

Gulf sighs. "Some things can't be forced."

The look on Kaprao's face is sentimental. "It was weird. Once we stopped trying to date, suddenly we had lots to talk about." 

"Khrab." Gulf snuggles in closer. Kaprao nugget of wisdom. Should he feel optimistic that he and Fon are now together? Albeit after a shaky start? He feels a sinking sensation in the pit of his belly that he really hopes is just hunger. 

Kaprao pats his arm. "Snack time?" 

"Khrab."


	11. Gulf

Gulf makes a face at P'Mild. "Um, I don't think so." He shakes his head. 

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"Don't we sleep on the floor enough around here? Now you want to do it outside?" 

P'Mild rolls his eyes. "Okay, Madam Type. Maybe hubby will convince you." He calls over P'Mew. 

"I like having a bed," he reminds him. "I won't go just because he asks me."

"Aw, why not?" P'Mew holds him from behind, patting away at his tummy like old times. Ever since the shadow puppets, things have slipped back to the way they were, before the heavy flirting and the heated looks. Back when it was just skinship and warmth. It feels like some of the pressure has alleviated, just like Kaprao described. 

He looks back at his senior with pleading eyes. "Can't we just go hiking and then go back home?" He likes the outdoors, but it doesn't mean he wants to sleep in it. 

P'Mew presses the side of his head to Gulf's. "We're going to watch the meteor shower, so it'll be late. You should join us." 

P'Mild huffs. "He doesn't want to sleep on the ground."

"And outside," Gulf repeats. Doesn't anyone listen to him? He can be a good sport about a lot of things, and hell, hasn't he proven he can fall asleep anywhere? But why _choose_ the hard ground on purpose? 

"Run has a tent," says P'Mew. 

"Great." Gulf nods."Stuffed in a bag with a bunch of guys. It'll smell like feet in there." What's the point of fresh air when everyone's sweaty socks will stink up the tent? 

P'Mild shakes his head. "I have a tent, too. You can sleep in it by yourself." He and P'Mew laugh at him. Everyone always seems to be laughing at him lately.

Gulf sulks into his senior's arms. "Then I might as well be at home by myself in a real bed." 

P'Mew grabs his belly and shakes it. "I can keep Nong Stress Ball company," he offers. "And I'll wear clean socks to bed, if it'll make you happy." Gulf tries very hard not to smile.

"Oooh!" P'Mild points at them. "I think you have him convinced!" 

Gulf shakes his head. "I don't have a sleeping bag." 

P'Mild throws his hands up. "Excuses! Why do I bother?" 

"Because you bet 1000 baht on us," Gulf reminds him. "Don't think I forgot! Now I definitely won't give in to P'Mew." 

Mew's hands stop patting his belly. "Wait," he leans forward to look at him. "Did I stand a chance before?" 

Shia. He really needs to think before he speaks. He tries to laugh it off. He can't let things get weird again. "Phi, don't you know when to play along? We have to tease P'Mild. You know, give him false hope." 

P'Mew nods and begins nuzzling Gulf's neck. "You mean like this? Is he watching?" 

Gulf laughs and slaps at his face. "Yes, I think we have him convinced." God, this is going to be harder than he thought.

P'Mild stands with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly unamused. "Jerks," he says flatly. "You think you're funny, but we'll see who's rich in three weeks." 

Gulf stops laughing. Three weeks. They're nearing the end of shooting, and then there won't be any more of this. Hell, there really shouldn't be any more of this now, since the intimacy has been well established between him and P'Mew. P'Run vlogs less often, now that they've visited all the fancy locations. And the behind the scenes crew stopped filming to avoid spoilers. At this point, it's just habit for them to cuddle. A habit that will be cut abruptly, cold turkey. 

"Nong?" P'Mew rubs his tummy. "Are you okay?" 

"I'll go na," says Gulf. "But we're not sharing a tent with P'Mild, and someone needs to loan me a sleeping bag." He looks defiantly at P'Mild's wide eyed expression. 

"No need," says P'Mew, patting away at his stomach. "My sleeping bag fits two." 

Shia.

_______________

Bugs. Everywhere gnats and mosquitoes and flies. Gulf's hair is a mess from the hike to the campsite, and he's sure he's covered in bites. It's a good thing they're done with all the shirtless scenes, because he's sure he's even getting bitten through his clothes. Though, what he wouldn't give for another shower scene like the one they filmed for the pilot. Too often has he been tormented by memories of P'Mew's body wrapped around him under the hot water, his hands roaming his flesh, and his lips on his neck. And every night he imagines that there are no cameras or crew members, that there is just him and P'Mew in that shower, and that his hands travel a bit further. 

It ends the same every time, with Gulf reaching under his covers and stroking himself, pretending it's P'Mew's touch. His mind swims with memories of P'Mew's face drawn up in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut, and lips parted. Imagining him like that drives Gulf insane. He's never been so aroused in his life, and with so little as a facial expression to get him going. 

It occurs to Gulf that he won't be able to touch himself tonight, to relieve that ache of being hopelessly crazy for P'Mew, all the while keeping things innocent and platonic on set. Even worse, he'll be trapped in a sleeping bag with him. There won't be an escape from his horny schoolboy crush on his senior. He curses his impulsive decision to go camping. He just wanted more time with him before the end. 

"Whoa!" P'Mew grabs him around the shoulders. "Look na where you're going." He points to the large dip in the ground where Gulf almost stepped. 

"Keep an eye on him," says P'Mild. "He's probably fantasizing about being alone in the tent with you tonight!"

P'Mew grabs his hand and leads him down the path. "We have to get there alive, first."

_________________

They're on the damn ground. He knew it would happen, and he knew he would hate it. He didn't even think to bring a folding chair. The others lie back on the grass, staring up at the sky while Gulf sits uncomfortably. 

"You'll hurt your neck that way," says P'Run. 

"He's not on good terms with the ground right now," says P'Mild. 

They all laugh at him and Gulf flips them off. Why did he bother coming?

"Quit teasing my faen," says P'Mew. The others howl and tease. He gets up and sits behind Gulf, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

"There's no camera," Gulf reminds him. It's been so long since P'Mew's even done that, but he figures he ought to remind his senior why they started in the first place. 

P'Mew nods. "I can still take care of you, though." He shifts their weight. "Lean back on me." 

"No." 

"So you won't be on the grass." 

"Why?" Gulf is painfully aware of how petulant he sounds. He doesn't want this in-between touch just as much as he doesn't want to be in the damn dirt. Maybe it was a mistake to go back to the way things were. Maybe he should have kissed him at Tharn's house instead of trying to maintain this torturous phi/nong relationship. 

Mew laughs and squeezes him. "We came all this way for the meteor shower. I can't let Yai Nong miss it because of some grass." He eases Gulf back against his chest. 

Warmth. Gulf can fight it all he wants, but it's there, making its way through his bloodstream, flushing his cheeks and his tiny ears. The warmth fills his body as P'Mew holds him in the darkness, as they watch the evening sky. This is why he came, isn't it? To feel more of this. To be held and touched by P'Mew as much as he can before the next three weeks are through. Even if it amounts to nothing, he'll at least have these memories. Because after that, he won't get it like this again. He'll have to wait for fan meetings and publicity events, and even then it won't be the same.

"There!" P'Run points up. 

P'Mew's arms tighten around him as a little orb of light flashes across the sky. He gasps as another appears, bigger this time. Gulf snuggles against P'Mew, forgetting about the grass and the bugs and the jackasses next to them. In this moment, P'Mew is holding Gulf, not Type, and it means everything to him. 

____________

"Yai Nong." 

Gulf groans a response, but even he doesn't know what he's saying. 

"Madam Type!" Shouts P'Mild. 

Gulf opens his eyes to find everyone staring at him. What? 

P'Mew smooths the hair from his face. "You fell asleep. The meteor shower is over." 

Gulf stretches and yawns, leaning against his senior. "What's next? Scary stories? Camp songs?" 

"Nobody wants to hear you sing," says P'Mild.

"It's time for bed," says P'Mew. He rubs his tummy. "Come on, before Mild tries to sleep with us." 

Gulf jumps up and makes a beeline for the tent. "The hell he will. His feet are the worst." 

"Someone's eager to sleep with hubby," teases P'Run.

Gulf shrugs. What the hell? He turns and grabs P'Mew by the front of his shirt, pulling him into the tent. "Goodnight, gentlemen!" He calls out to them as he zips up the door. Their hoots and hollers echo into the night.

They collapse onto the bedding, laughing like schoolboys. They can hear the others outside, asking each other if it's real or not. _Are P'Mew and Yai Nong really dating? They seem awfully close. They're sharing a tent. Hell, they're sharing a sleeping bag_. 

Gulf hopes the darkness hides his smile. Once upon a time, it used to bug him when people speculated about him and P'Mew, but now he rather enjoys it. He takes off his shoes and puts on new socks. P'Mew does the same, as promised. 

"Did you really only bring one sleeping bag?" 

P'Mew nods. "I only own one. But you can have it to yourself if you want. I brought extra blankets, too." 

Gulf still loves how considerate his senior is. Always taking care of him, even when the cameras are off. Even after all the fights and the sulking and the awkward, sexually tense moments. He settles along the interior side of the sleeping bag and lifts the top portion. "We can share," he tells P'Mew. 

His senior slides in next to him, wriggling around to get comfortable. The bag may fit two, but it probably wasn't intended for two grown men of their height and someone with P'Mew's shoulders. He's just so _broad_. Gulf looks at the space where he assumes P'Mew's face is as he lets his eyes adjust to the dim ambient lighting from outside. He begins to make out his profile, the details of his nose and lips, eyebrows, and finally his eyes. 

"What did you think of tonight?" Asks P'Mew. 

Gulf shrugs. He shifts his weight onto his side to face him. "Bugs. Heat. Grass. Not getting to shower before bed." He draws a pattern with his finger on the sleeping bag lining. 

"Is Yai Nong mad at me na for making him come?" 

Gulf chuckles. "I can't imagine ever being mad at you for making me come." Shia. They both share the same embarrassed look. They definitely had the same thought.

They break out into laughter. P'Mew brings a hand to his face, covering one of his eyes. He does this a lot when he finds something ridiculous. There are numerous pictures of him on the internet in this exact pose. Not that Gulf makes a habit of looking at pictures of him online. Can he help it if he's tagged in so many of them, even if he's not in them? 

"What are you two doing in there?" Shouts P'Run. 

"Hey!" P'Mild scolds him. "You're gonna make me lose this bet. They were probably making out already." 

Gulf and P'Mew roll their eyes at each other.

"Nah, Mew is too timid and Gulf is too stubborn." 

P'Mew giggles at the offended look on Gulf's face. He stops when he realizes he's been insulted, too. He points to himself and mouths, _am I timid?_

Gulf shrugs. "Well, we're not making out, so…" 

His senior's face cracks into a smile. He leans in toward Gulf, making kissy faces and noises. The familiar warmth embraces him, seeing his Phi act so silly. He giggles and half-heartedly pushes him away. 

"Hear that? I thought I heard them talking. They could have been confessing their love." 

P'Run snorts. "More like Gulf is scolding P'Mew about his feet." 

Gulf shrugs. It's something he would do. 

P'Mew points behind him. The tent has two doors to it. He whispers a plan into his ear. Gulf tries not to shiver at the warm breath on his skin. He wishes for a moment that they were alone, without an audience outside, especially the two biggest gossip queens in the cast. All they need is P'Pee to make the grapevine complete. He nods and watches P'Mew change socks and put his shoes back on. He crouches at the back entrance and gives Gulf a thumbs up. 

Gulf nods again and begins moving around in the sleeping bag. He starts breathing heavier and panting. Then he moans. 

"Did you hear that?" 

"Shhh!" 

Gulf moans again, louder. He rustles the blankets and starts whining. He looks over at P'Mew, who slowly unzips the tent. 

"Khun Phi…" Gulf says in his best stage whisper. "We shouldn't… they'll hear us." He hopes his voice covers the sound of the zipper. 

"No way…" 

"He's faking."

Gulf moans and covers his mouth to stifle the sound. He stops moving in the sleeping bag. 

"Shh, they stopped."

"I think they were really going at it." 

Gulf suppresses a laugh. He starts moving again slowly, kissing the back of his hand. 

"They're making out!" Hisses P'Mild. 

Gulf lets out a strangled moan, as if trying to be quiet. He continues kissing his hand, watching the shadow of P'Mew creep around the tent and sneak up behind P'Mild and P'Run. 

"Damn, Khun Phi's really giving it to him." 

P'Mew grabs them both at the shoulders. "Giving what to him?" 

"Shia!"

"Ghost!" 

P'Mew's laughter fills the campsite as Mild and Run shout and shove him.

"I thought I died!" 

"I thought I died, reincarnated, and came back as myself!" 

Gulf emerges from the tent, laughing hysterically at his seniors. The color is still gone from their faces. They applaud his performance and he takes a bow. 

"What did P'Mild say before?" Gulf teases. "That I don't act on the show, I just walk around without a script?" 

P'Mild looks sheepish. "I mean, this was a good performance, but was it really acting?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "More like a preview, if you ask me!" 

"Maybe," says Gulf. "But I'll make sure it happens after the show airs so you'll lose that 1000 baht." He waves off P'Mild's protests and returns to the tent. He can hear the others teasing P'Mew, making jokes about blue balls. 

When P'Mew finally rejoins him, he removes his shoes and puts on his bed socks. Always so considerate. Gulf waits in the dark, unsure of what to do next. The campsite is quiet, except for the muted noises of P'Mild and P'Run getting ready for bed. The sleeping bag shifts as P'Mew slides into it.

"Ah. Good night na khrab," says P'Mew with a contented sigh. 

"Khrab." 

Gulf isn't sure what he expected. That P'Mew would cuddle with him? Would hold him? It was a naive thought, as most of his thoughts are. P'Mew lies a few inches away, his back turned to Gulf. It's like when he shares a bed with his friends. All sleep, no touch. The ultimate no homo. Except _yes homo_. Gulf lies there, frustrated and anxious. Why did he put himself through this? To spend the night staring at his crush's back without any chance of… anything? 

"Shia…" Gulf whispers, turning away from him. "Might as well be sleeping by myself." 

The sleeping bag shifts, and he feels an arm snake its way around his belly. P'Mew makes a groggy noise. "Is it okay like this na?" 

Gulf feels a smile spread across his face. He closes his eyes and breathes out, savoring the feeling of P'Mew holding him. The warmth pulses inside him, matching the beat of his infatuated little heart. He scoots back to fully wedge himself in P'Mew's arms, letting his senior tighten his hold around his stomach. 

"Khrab." 

Gulf falls asleep to P'Mew rubbing his tummy. 

__________________

Morning wood. Gulf forgot the most basic of things about sleeping men. He forgot about morning wood and morning breath and how P'Mew is one of those annoying morning people and how he is definitely not. Fuck. 

P'Mew stirs and cuddles up closer to him. And there, in the sleeping bag that they share, Gulf can feel his senior's erection nestled in the space between his ass cheeks. Son of a bitch. 

His own member is rock hard. It was only halfway there when he woke up, but now he's at full attention, much like P'Mew. God, he's hard. Like those kissing scenes, with their bodies pressed so close together, mouths hungry and tongues seeking each other out. Those times when their erections would rub against one another, and Gulf could barely keep himself from moaning and grabbing at P'Mew's hair or scratching his back. And of course sometimes he did those things. Remember the rating. 

God, he wants to stay like this forever. Every morning, cuddled in P'Mew's embrace, feeling him hard against him as they both wake up. He doesn't realize he's rubbing against him until he hears a moan in his ear. 

P'Mew presses a kiss to his neck. "You're up early." His hand travels down Gulf's stomach, down and under the waistband of his sweats until it rests on his erection. 

Gulf gasps and bites down on his lip. After all his fantasies, P'Mew is finally touching him, rubbing him through the front of his boxers. Softly at first, gradually increasing in pressure. His thumb slides over his head, letting his precum soak into the fabric. Gulf lets out a whimper, and P'Mew presses his hips against him. He feels his senior, hot and hard, slowly rocking his hips against him. His hand tightens around his cock, stroking him through the fabric to the rhythm of his thrusts.

P'Mew hums against his ear. "I thought you said you didn't like it in the morning anymore?"

Gulf freezes. He's never said such a thing, never had a reason to do so. Because P'Mew isn't talking to him. P'Mew thinks he's someone else. He feels sick all of a sudden. Nauseous and dirty and wrong. 

"P'Mew, stop."

"Huh?"

"I said stop." He shoves his hand away. He sits up and turns to his senior. 

P'Mew looks at him with confusion. "Nong? Why are you…" he looks around the tent, realization dawning on him. "...here?"

"I was just wondering that myself." 

He struggles to free himself from the sleeping bag. He can't even have any dignity as he shimmies out of it, ignoring P'Mew's half conscious entreaties to stay. 

"Gulf, wait." He reaches for his wrist, but Gulf snatches it away. "Gulf, I'm sorry."

"Did you just now remember my name?" He finally gets out and scrambles to his feet. He doesn't want to be here anymore in this godforsaken forest, still feeling the traces of P'Mew's touch. A touch that wasn't meant for him. 

"Gulf, I didn't mean to."

He can feel the tears welling in his eyes. Not because he's sad, but because he's furious that he allowed himself to believe that it was ever real. 

"That's the part that hurts, you asshole." He shoves his feet into his shoes. 

P'Mew struggles to get up. He winces and grabs his back. "Ah, fuck. Gulf, stay. Quit being childish, goddamnit." 

Gulf looks back at him, blood rushing to his head. After all this, he still insults him? "Fuck you." 

He's stomping through the woods, through the damn grass. He wipes at the tears flowing steadily down his face. Why does this keep happening? Why does he keep deluding himself? What does Mew see when he looks at him? A child? A naive boy with a silly crush? 

Fuck Mew. He led him on, didn't he? All the holding and touching and flirting. It wasn't just imagination. He felt something. He swears he did. Unless he really is a fool. A stupid kid with a stupid infatuation. He's an idiot for thinking he was special, that he stood a chance. 

He stops to catch his breath. He has no idea where he is. Wasn't there supposed to be a trail somewhere? Shia. He can see P'Mew in the distance, walking after him. He knows his senior too well to know he's not coming to apologize. He waits and braces himself. 

"What the fuck was that?" P'Mew asks.

Yup. The asshole. "You tell me. Or weren't you awake enough to know who you were touching?" 

His eyes are furious. "I already apologized for that. I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was you."

The tears come rushing back. Does he have to remind him? "I know," he says. His voice is shaky. He knows. 

"Then how can you be mad at me for what I do when I'm asleep? I don't know what I'm doing!"

Gulf looks at him, no longer trying to hide his tears. "You still dream about him, don't you?"

The anger in P'Mew's eyes begins to fade. His features soften, turning sad and remorseful. "Sometimes." 

Gulf wipes his eyes and nose. He's so embarrassed. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"It was just a dream." P'Mew reaches for his hand. "I can't help what I dream about." 

"Do you know?" Gulf slides his hand out of P'Mew's grasp. "That I started dreaming about you?" He closes his eyes. He doesn't want to see the pitying look on Mew's face. 

Instead he feels arms wrap around him. He wants to fight it. He wants to push him off and yell in his face. He feels the fight and anger of Type raging inside him, begging to be let loose. Worst of all, he feels the pain that Type knows all too well. _Just tell me I'm the only one._

"I wish I could tell you," P'Mew whispers. "I wish I could tell you how I feel." 

Gulf's laugh is bitter. "But you don't know how you feel, right?" 

"You're shit at guessing, you know that?" He runs his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could, but I shouldn't. I shouldn't have done a lot of things." 

"Well, you did and now I have to suffer for it." 

"You think I'm not suffering?" His voice has grown harsh again. "You think I'm not going crazy?" 

Gulf does shove him this time. "Poor baby. Can't decide if you should wallow in self pity or string along some poor kid." 

His eyes are fire now, glaring at him with a rage that Gulf recognizes too well. "Talk to me when your heart is broken, and see how well you handle it."

"It's broken right now, you asshole!" 

"Gulf."

"No." He shoves away his attempts at holding him. "I don't want you touching me. Not when you could be thinking of him." 

"Goddamnit, Gulf!" He's shouting now. "I don't love him anymore. I haven't loved him in a long time. And it hurt so much that I can never love him again." 

"No, but you can dream about him while you're holding me."

He shakes his head. "You're such a brat. It brought back memories, that's all." 

His breath is shaky, coming in shallow gasps. "Memories of the past with _him_ that are better than the present with me." 

Tears well up in P'Mew's eyes. "You don't want this, Gulf."

"Why did you ask me to watch the meteor shower?"

P'Mew wipes at his tears. "Because you said I should encourage you to try new things." 

Gulf laughs through his tears. That stupid list of how P'Mew could win his heart. And just what did he plan to do once he got it? "Are you part of the bet?"

"What? God, no. Gulf, the bet isn't real. Mild is just joking."

"Then I'll ask you again. Why did you ask me to watch the meteor shower?" 

P'Mew sighs. He looks down and runs a hand through his hair. "Damnit, Gulf. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could before we stop filming." He looks up at the sky and takes a deep breath. "I didn't want to let you go. I was being selfish. I'm sorry." 

Gulf steadies himself. He's finally stopped crying. "I feel the same way."

Mew looks at him. "You do?"

"Yeah. I think you were being selfish, too." He walks back in the direction of camp, leaving his senior behind him. 

He sees P'Run smack P'Mild in the arm when he approaches. The two of them exchange a look that Gulf has seen on every cast and crew member. _They're fighting again._

For the first time this entire trip, he's grateful that it's P'Run and P'Mild who are with them. The two of them have enough humor and good nature to mitigate the awkwardness for the duration of breakfast and the breaking down of camp. Even P'Mew seems neutral and civil by the time they drive away from the campsite. 

Gulf's phone chimes as they hit civilization. It's a voicemail. "P'Mild khrab? Can you drop me off at the mechanic? My car is ready." 

_____________

"Cut na khrab." P'Tee sounds exhausted. "Mew, do you need a minute?" 

Gulf looks at his senior, his dry eyes, his passive face. He's supposed to be in anguish over Type breaking up with him. 

Mew reaches to ruffle his hair before he remembers he's in character and can't mess it up. Gulf can see the stylists in the background breathe a sigh of relief. 

Mew walks off set toward P'Tee. He looks distressed. They talk for a bit and P'Tee nods, patting Mew on the back. Their director brings up his walkie. "Wrap na khrab. We'll try again in a few days." 

P'Mew leaves the set without looking back.

________________

Gulf walks past the dressing room toward the bathroom. He stops when he hears P'Mew's voice coming from an empty set. 

"I fucked everything up, didn't I?" 

"Define everything," says P'Pee. 

"It should never have gone this far."

"You really think you could have kept your distance from him?" 

Mew's laugh is bitter. "No. No, I couldn't have. It's just… when I'm with him, I feel like I can be myself again."

"That's good."

"Is it?"

Pee sighs. "Mew. Look at me, baby. Do you know? You did gain weight since the show started. I took your measurements before workshops, remember?"

"Khrab."

"You were so skinny in February. I know you hadn't been eating ever since…"

"Don't."

"Whatever's happened between you and Gulf, it's been good for you."

Mew groans. "But has it been good for Gulf? He's worse off now because of me. In any case, it's never going to go any further. Not since-"

"Shut up, Mew. Everyone can see how he feels about you. You think one more fight will scare him away?"

"He said his heart was broken."

"Hearts heal. Look at yours."

"It's a mess."

"It was an even bigger mess after-"

"Please don't. I don't want to talk about _him_ anymore."

"Then let's talk about how you're going to fix things with Gulf. You owe it to each other."

Mew scoffs. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing." 

"Does anyone when they're in love?" 

He makes an exasperated noise. "You can't just throw that word around, Phi. You have no idea what's between me and Gulf." 

"Nor should I. But you should." He hums in a knowing kind of way. "Figure it out so that poor boy doesn't end up as the R word, okay na?" 

"R word?"

"You handsome fool, Mew." P'Pee tsks at him. "Rebound. He deserves better than that." 

"He deserves much better than that." 

Gulf's fist is so tight he feels his nails dig into his palm. He opens his hand to see tiny red crescents of broken skin. He's tired of being the passive character in his own life. He's tired of simply reacting to things or having his personal life reflected back at him through metaphor or allegory or whatever. He's tired of not having any control. 

He steps into the room. P'Mew and P'Pee look at him. 

"Khun Phi khrab, I think we should talk." 


	12. Mew: Eye Contact

**February 2019**

Mew lies back in an armchair. He's an hour early to the studio for his fitting, but what else is he going to do? He already fed and walked Chopper, went to the gym, did some homework, and did some housework. Amazing how productive one can be when sleep isn't involved. If the workshops can just get started, he can quit being so anxious. He needs the work to distract him and exhaust him. He needs to focus on his character's problems so he can forget his own.

"Don't tell me that fancy watch of yours is broken na kha." P'Pee stands over him. "You're not due until 9."

Mew shrugs and changes positions in the armchair. He can't seem to get comfortable.

He smirks at him. "Here to snoop on the cherub?"

"Alai?"

"The pretty one, your co-star." He leans down, cupping a hand around his mouth. "Come to see if he's trouble?"

Mew groans and draws his legs up to his chest. Does Pee really think he's that petty? "No, I'm not like that, Phi."

He shrugs and sits on the arm rest. "Well, there's nothing to worry about, anyway. He's your worst nightmare. Polite. Respectful. Sweetest smile ever. Impossible to hate." He presses a hand to his heart. "He has the softest little voice-naja. Lilting little speech pattern. Nalak nalak. It's a good thing he's a bottom and not a top, otherwise you'd lose all your jobs to him."

Mew sinks further into the chair. "Whose friend are you- his or mine?"

"Can I think on it?" He giggles, then pats him on the arm. "Joking na. Of course yours. Besides, you'll be fine. He seems like a good kid. Humble. Not like some of those new hot shots. You'll like him."

Mew shrugs. "He was the best actor at auditions. If he can keep that up, we'll get along fine."

The door to the dressing room opens and there's the little cherub himself. Gulf Kanawut, his co-star. He spots Mew the second he walks out the door, and Mew can feel the panic rising inside him. The anxiety of what this boy might think of him. Gulf's eyes go wide for a second. Such round, innocent eyes. They zero in on Mew, making him sit up in his seat.

And then Gulf smiles. Not a polite, respectful, obligatory smile. A real one. A friendly one. It pulls at something inside him. Such a sweet smile, just like Pee described.

"Sawadee-khrab, P'Mew, P'Pee." He makes wai to them.

Mew and Pee nod back. Mew knows his own expression is stunned, but he can't control his face. In any case, Gulf seems amused, and his smile widens as he walks away.

________________________

Gulf looks scared. Like a lost kitten or something, looking around in a state of expectancy and trepidation. It's their first workshop, after all. Everyone else is paired off for an acting exercise, and Mew takes his time walking over to him. Can't let the boy think he'll always be there to rescue him. What was it he said at the TEP interview?

_I think he will be protect me._

Mew can still hear his broken English now. Adorable, but so naive. Protect him? How presumptuous. He has his own problems to deal with without someone being dependent on him. He refuses to carry both of them on this show. He'll have to teach the kid how to pull his own weight.

"Nong." He gestures for them to sit on the floor. "What's your experience with BL?"

"Um, none." He lets out a nervous laugh. A kind of dorky _huh-huh_ laugh. He's even wearing his retainer. What happened to the arrogant guy from auditions who was too good to talk to anyone?

Mew tries to hide his irritation. "Are you afraid of me?"

He tilts his head to the side as if confused. "Why would I be scared of you, Phi? You seem like a very caring person."

Huh. "Then why won't you look me in the eyes?"

"Aow." Gulf locks eyes with him and the effect is immediate. It's the same fiery, consuming chemistry that Mew felt when he looked into Gulf's eyes for the first time. Some unseen force that holds him spellbound.

His junior can barely sustain the contract before he looks away and blushes. The spell is broken and Mew is left speechless.

"Sorry na, Phi." Gulf plays with the fabric of his sweatpants. "For some reason today, it's overwhelming to look at you. I feel…"

"Intimidated?" Doesn't everyone think that? Even when he tries so hard to be personable?

Gulf shakes his head. "Sore."

"Alai?"

Gulf looks at him- briefly- a smile ghosting across his lips. "Right here," he says, clutching at his chest. "I feel sore when I look at you. It's not fear. It's just new, that's all."

Sore? Does his co-star have any idea how that sounds? Mew reaches out, but stops himself. "Uh, Nong?" He opens his hand, palm up. "Why don't we start with a trust building exercise?" He's not sure how long it will take for his co-star to feel comfortable with things like touch, but there's clearly a lot of work to be done.

Gulf notices his hand and grabs it without hesitation. "Sure na, Phi." He makes another attempt at eye contact, a fleeting flash of that intense connection, before looking away. His ears are a bright pink. Nalak.

"You'll have to get used to looking at me, Nong." Mew offers his other hand. "Our characters have a lot of passion for each other, and we'll need to show that on screen."

Gulf's fingers entwine with his own. "Khrab." He takes a deep breath and looks at Mew.

The connection renews itself, incendiary and enthralling. Gulf’s eyes are timid at first, radiating a tentative energy that breaks every time he looks away. Mew should be annoyed by his junior’s lack of focus, but Gulf’s determination grows each time he resumes eye contact. He can’t help but admire his dedication.

“Nong.” Mew rubs his thumbs against Gulf’s skin. “Tell me about the kind of music you like. You listen to rap, right?”

He nods and looks back at him. “Shai.” His smile is shy, and Mew can see he wants to look away but forces himself to stay put. “You remembered?”

“Of course na.” A soft chuckle escapes him. His junior is so pleased by something so small. “Who do you like?”

It’s like seeing a crack form in the shell that surrounds his co-star. The tension leaves Gulf’s shoulders as he lists his favorite artists, asking Mew if he’s heard of any of them. The hesitation is gone from his eyes, too. That didn’t take much at all.

“What about you, Phi?”

“Hmm?”

“Who do you like?”

Who does he… oh, right. Musical artists. He smiles and Gulf mirrors him. He squeezes Mew’s hands and nods with encouragement. And when Mew answers, he’s really listening. Those endearing doe eyes of his study Mew with an intensity that seers into him and makes him understand exactly what Gulf meant. A soreness, right in the center of his chest.

The workshop staff call for a water break. Mew goes to his bag for some eye drops when he spots a familiar shape ducking around a corner. Son of a bitch.

He catches up to P’Pee and gives him an expectant look. "What are you doing here?"

Pee grins and plays with his hair. "Came to snoop, of course. I told them I had to get last minute measurements of you and Mild. You don't mind if I feel you up a bit, do you, thilak?" He bats his eyelashes at him.

"Be my guest."

His senior pouts. "Hmph. You used to be more of a tease."

Yeah, well. "It's only a tease if someone wants it."

"Oh, am I the air?" Pee looks around as if he were lost.

Mew gives a half-hearted laugh. He knows what his Phi is up to. Come to check on him again. Or to pick up some gossip. "You're my friend, Phi."

"Worst decision I ever made." He peers around the corner. "Your co-star, he's shy, isn't he?" He nods his head to the far wall where Gulf sits by himself.

Mew peeks, too. He still hasn't been able to figure him out. His demeanor seems shy. Pee was right about his voice. What did he call it? Lilting. But Gulf's words and actions say otherwise.

"I don't think shy," he tells Pee. "Just quiet."

His senior touches his arm. "Oh. You used to be quiet. What happened to that darling boy?"

"He made friends with you na."

"Guilty."

He waves goodbye to Pee and walks over to his co-star. “Can I join you?”

Gulf gestures for him to sit. “Of course na, Phi.”

Mew leaves some space between them, but holds out his hand. His junior chuckles and places his hand on top. He doesn’t lace their fingers together, it’s more like when Chopper does _shake_.

Mew lets their hands remain as they are for now. “My acting teacher talked about the importance of touch between actors, and how it can help establish intimacy between their characters.” He laughs and leans back against the wall. “It really helped me with my acting partner, but it made me think about my personal life. I wanted to try it with my family to see if it would make us closer.”

“Khrab?”

“We weren’t really affectionate when I was growing up. We didn’t embrace or kiss or speak sweetly to each other. Mostly my parents talked to us about honor, duty, and charity. Those are their big things.” He sighs and glances at his junior. When their eyes meet, it’s like a spark igniting. “One of my friends in university called me touch-starved, but I didn’t know what they meant until I realized I spent more time hugging my acting partner than my family.” His laughter isn’t bitter, not anymore.

Hi junior smiles and scoots closer. “Did it work na, Phi?”

“It did!” He laughs again, louder this time. “It was weird at first. My mother was the most receptive. She was confused, like maybe I had done something wrong and was trying to ask forgiveness. But when she realized I just wanted to show love, she was happy.”

“You said ‘us’ earlier. Do you have siblings?”

“Shai. My sister, Jom.” He makes an exasperated sound. “Stubborn! She was so suspicious. ‘Phi is trying to trick me,’ she would say. ‘Phi is playing a joke’ or ‘Phi wants a favor.’ I told her ‘what kind of person do you think I am? I have my own money, I don’t need a favor. I have video games, I don’t need to play tricks on you.’ But we’re never shy about teasing each other, so it’s understandable. Eventually she realized I just wanted to be a good brother, and wanted to make sure she wasn’t touch-starved, too.”

Gulf nods and looks off in the distance. “I can’t imagine growing up without touch. My family is really close. I never leave the house without kissing my mother goodbye. And my father has a very soft heart. If we say anything nice to him, he wants to hug and say thank you.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“Do you have siblings?”

“Gracie. She’s my older sister.” He chuckles at himself. “I was very close to her as a kid. Always sitting next to her, following her around the house. I always wanted to sleep in her bed or with my parents. I didn’t like sleeping alone. I still don’t.”

“I always slept alone.”

“Aow.” Gulf looks at him again. “Even as a kid?”

“Shai. My father would never allow it. Except this one time when we were younger and Jom was crying. But my father was the hardest to get close to.” He squeezes Gulf’s hand. “I thought I gave him a heart attack the first time I hugged him and told him I love you. He was very surprised. Probably thought it was some weird thing I picked up from America.” He laughs and instinctively leans in toward Gulf. His junior responds by resting his arm against him.

“What about now?”

“Now, he’s sometimes the first one to say I love you. That’s when I thought I was the one who had a heart attack!” They both laugh so hard that for just a moment, Mew forgets the hollowness in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s weird,” says Gulf. “As much as I like physical affection, I’m not very good at initiating it. I think I’d be too afraid of rejection, especially from my family. So Phi is very brave to do that.”

“Then, can I initiate touch with you to strengthen our chemistry?”

Gulf nods and slowly lowers his head onto Mew’s shoulder. “Shai. I think it’s a good idea.”

__________________

Mew spots Gulf sitting by himself when he arrives at the next workshop. He’s curled in the far corner of the room, watching something on his phone. His expression is guarded and grumpy, and he somehow manages to look tiny. What a strange creature his co-star is. Almost like a cat keeping to the shadows. Mew’s more of a dog person, but he knows a little something about the nature of felines.

He approaches slowly, giving his sleepy junior the chance to see him coming. "Morning, Nong."

He groans something of a response, eyes barely glancing up in greeting. The momentary flash of contact is like an electric current. A _zap_ that lasts for a second but echoes long afterwards.

"Can I put my arm around you, Nong?" He settles down next to him.

Gulf nods without looking away from his screen. All the same, he snuggles closer when Mew embraces him. He fits perfectly in Mew’s hold, and eventually he looks up at him with those large, curious eyes of his.

“Phi?”

“Hm?”

“What else can we do to build intimacy?”

“Alai na?” He adjusts to get a better look at his junior.

Gulf shuts off his phone and rests his arm on Mew’s leg. “I wish we had the script, at least. Then we could practice together.”

Mew grins at him. “I’ll be right back.” He returns with two copies of the TharnType book. "I figured we could use the source material."

They settle back into their previous position, and Gulf puts down his book. “We only need one if we’re sitting like this, right?” He curls up even more against Mew.

It’s strange, feeling his junior so eager and responsive to his touch. Then again, it makes sense after their last conversation. "Do you want me to read or…?"

Gulf nods. "You read na. Phi has a nice voice."

"Nong better not fall asleep."

He laughs and pats Mew's leg. "Okay na, okay. How about we take turns? And when Tharn and Type have dialogue together, we'll act it out, okay?"

Mew reads most of the narration while Gulf acts out Type's dialogue. Watching him transform into the little hothead is an experience all on its own. He's seen glimpses of Type during auditions, but seeing Gulf explore him and approach the character from a cold reading like this gives him incredible insight into Gulf's process.

"I have to tell you," his junior says, making a fist. "No, wait. Too hostile, I think it should build. Okay… I have to tell you, I hate gays." His eyes are narrowed, his tone cool and measured. A warning more than an attack.

"Alright," calls P'Tee. "Can we have everyone gather? We'll begin our exercises."

Gulf pouts and pats Mew's knee. "To be continued na, Phi? Maybe during lunch?"

Something jumps in Mew's chest that resembles anticipation, but that can't be it. He can't be looking forward to spending his break working, teaching his clueless newbie co-star. Didn't he tell himself he wouldn't carry him through this? And yet, one look into those hopeful eyes and Mew is powerless to deny him. Years of being everyone's phi, no doubt. Nothing to do with his junior in particular.

The workshop staff pairs him with Boat instead of Gulf. Is he imagining the look of disappointment in Gulf's expression. Is the twerp getting dependent on him already? And why does Mew feel disappointed, too?

"P'Mew?"

"Hm?"

"P'Mew, it's your turn to guess."

"Huh?" He looks back at Boat, who is pretending to pet an animal. Mew is supposed to guess the animal, based on the way Boat is interacting with it. "Um, some kind of bird?"

Boat is most definitely not pretending to pet a bird, and Mew realizes it the second the words leave his mouth. What he does realize is that he guessed bird because across the room, that's what Gulf is pretending to pet.

Shia.

When lunch comes, Mew makes a conscious effort to _not_ pay attention to Gulf. It would be ridiculous of him to be eager for more interaction. There's nothing to get excited about.

Especially when the brat takes his time eating. Mew sits next to him, definitely not looking at his watch every now and then. Mild is on Gulf's other side, talking relentlessly and keeping Gulf so preoccupied with conversation that he hasn't taken a bite in five minutes. Not that he's been tracking the time.

"Nong," he says. He tries not to sound stern. "Your food will get cold na."

"Oh." It's as if he forgot his lunch even existed.

The pace with which Gulf resumes eating is infuriating. It's like he doesn't care at all about having time to read the book together. Wasn't it his idea in the first place? And why does Mew give a shit?

He decides that he doesn't. Mew excuses himself and searches for a quiet spot to fall asleep. It's how he'd rather spend his lunch break, anyway, rather than holding his junior's hand and listening to Type shouting homophobic slurs.

It's not until he's on the brink of drifting off that he feels someone settle next to him. "Ready na, Phi?"

Son of a bitch. "Alai?"

"Aow, are you sleeping? Sorry na, Phi."

Mew rolls onto his back and glares at his junior. "What did you think I was doing? Meditating?"

Gulf doesn't seem bothered by his hostility. He chuckles and shrugs. "I just saw you over here so I came as quickly as I could." No apology. Only a defense. Fucking brat. "Should I go na, Phi?"

Mew groans. He wants to say yes, but the sadness in Gulf's voice tugs at whatever's left of his heart. "No, let's get back to reading. I'm not getting up, though."

His co-star takes that as some kind of invitation and snuggles up against him on the floor. "Okay na. Is this okay, Phi?"

What's he supposed to say, no? It's a good sign that his junior is this comfortable with skinship this soon. Surely, that's why Mew feels some kind of excitement rush through his body. He's pleased by their progress as co-stars, that's all. "Fine," he mumbles.

Gulf does most of the reading this time. His soft, lilting speech is an amusing contrast to Mame's description of their fights. His stumbling over words, too, is surprisingly endearing. Something about the way he picks himself up after every mistake etches himself into Mew's esteem.

Gulf spreads himself out over Mew's chest and groans. "It's exhausting reading about their bickering." He balances the book on top of his head. "I'm so tempted to skip to the smut." He laughs against Mew's shirt, bathing his sternum in warm breath.

"Let's regroup in five minutes," calls P'Tee.

Mew can already see the reluctance on Gulf's face as he checks his watch. "Nong," he pauses to give himself one last chance to change his mind. But it's for work, after all. "Do you want to video chat and read the book together outside of workshop?" Anxiety rises in his belly, like asking someone to dance.

Gulf doesn't say anything. His eyes are bright and clear and his mouth is drawn up in a bashful smile. He nods and hides his face in Mew's chest again. There's going to be a wet spot on his shirt at this rate. Gulf fishes his phone out of his pocket and slaps it into Mew's stomach without looking up.

He'll take that as a yes.

_____________

What the fuck was he thinking? Mew stares at the page in horror as Gulf approaches the first lines of smut. The words are an attack on his sense of propriety, and yet Gulf seems completely unphased by the obscenity.

Ass. Shaft. Cock. Thrust. Entrance. Harder. Wet. Fuck. Talk about sensory overload. When was the last time he even looked at porn?

He glances back at the video screen when he realizes Gulf has gone silent. "Alai?"

His co-star gives him a concerned look. "Everything okay na? Phi looks like he's in pain."

"I kind of am."

"Too explicit for your taste?"

"It's just… a lot." He runs a hand through his hair. "You're not even blushing."

"Is Phi judging me?" He laughs that dorky huh-huh laugh of his. It's starting to grow on him.

"Aren't you just the least bit shy?"

He holds his hand up in a shrug. "Honestly, I'm too confused to be shy. Like this part… ' _So good! Harder!' Type yelled as Tharn's shaft hit his G spot."_

Mew chokes on his own saliva. "Alai wa?" Does it really say that?

"Do we even have G spots, Phi?"

A question Mew never thought he'd have to answer. He clears his throat and sits up. "Uh, no. She's referring to the prostate, but I think she uses the term G spot because hitting it produces a similar reaction."

Gulf scratches his head. "I wonder if it's easier to find than a woman's G spot."

"It definitely is."

Gulf raises his eyebrows at him.

Shia. "I just mean that the prostate is the size of a walnut. I'm sure it's hard to miss."

His junior nods, though it's hard to tell whether he's convinced.

________________

Gulf's lips make contact and Mew freezes for a second. Shia. What is this kid doing? Doesn't he know you don't kiss in workshop? He's really going for it, too. He feels stupid just sitting there, having his junior make out _at_ him. So, he responds, moving his mouth to match his pace. The others in the room gasp.

The little shit's a good kisser. That's good. It'll look nice on camera. Mew's sick of those tame, off center kisses in BL. His co-star seems willing to go for realism, and that gives him hope for the little punk. He knew he had a good feeling about him at auditions.

Fuck, is that his tongue?

Mew finds P'Pee during the next water break. He looks as shaken up as he is.

"Did he…?"

Mew nods. "Khrab."

"And he was the first to…?"

"Khrab."

"And you didn't…?"

Mew makes a face. "No! I had no idea. It's workshop."

"No, I know. Of course not." Pee bites his nails. "But he really…?"

"Yes!" Mew gags. "Ugh, why does he have to like pork rinds?" He helps himself to Pee's pink milk.

His senior strokes his hair absently. "Maybe I was wrong about the little cherub. I mean, look at those big, round eyes. He looks so precious. But the way he ate your face…" he purrs and giggles at himself. "More like a fallen angel na kha?"

"I need to brush my teeth."

Pee opens his bag and hands him a brand new toothbrush. "Here, baby, use my emergency one."

"You carry a toothbrush with you?"

His senior rolls his eyes at him. "You're too much of a romantic to understand how one night stands work, but yes. Here's the toothpaste."

Mew looks at the thin tube. "It's almost empty."

"I'm popular."

_______________

Mild lies across Mew's chest as they flip through their brand new scripts.

"Did you hear about Fluke's new series?"

Mew looks up from his page. "The reincarnation one?"

"Earth is in it, too."

"Which Earth?"

He chuckles, shaking the two of them. "Cooheart."

Mew makes some kind of acknowledging sound. "Is that why he's not playing Tar with us?" He looks over at Kok. "Nong was in _The Best Twins_ with you, right?"

"Mm. But we didn't have any scenes together."

Mew watches him a bit longer. "He's cute."

"Mew Suppasit." Mild slaps him on the chest. "Don't start."

"I'm not."

"You were."

"Was not."

"Aren't you supposed to be heartbroken?"

Mew rolls his eyes. "I'm over it."

"Lies."

"No, really."

"I can store my loose change in your eye bags."

Mew huffs and ruffles Mild's hair. "I'm doing my Master's degree. Of course I'm not sleeping."

"You're so skinny, Phi." He pokes at his ribs.

"Ay! Cut that shit out," he hisses. "I'm fine."

Mild adjusts himself to snuggle into his shoulder. "Hm. Maybe. After all, you haven't commented on him yet, which means you're into him."

"Who?"

A mischievous grin spreads across Mild's face. "The pretty one. You know, with the sweet smile and the big round eyes." He looks at the ceiling and sighs. "You know, the one that's your _type_ … get it?"

"Get off me."

_________________

The blanket that serves as Type's rehearsal bed is much softer than Mew expected. He wriggles around to get comfortable while he and Gulf flip through their scripts.

Gulf sighs and leans against him. "P'Mew khrab?"

"Hm?"

His eyes are soft and round. Just looking at him makes his chest sore again. "Which scene are you looking forward to the most?"

"Ah," he looks down at the page in front of him. A love scene. Well, that's certainly not the answer. "Probably any of the ones where Tharn and Type argue."

"Really?" His smile turns cheeky. "Is Phi looking forward to fighting with me?"

Maybe. He rolls his eyes and smiles. "I'm a bit hot headed, so it's a good way to get my anger out."

"Ah." His co-star nods. He leans on him even more. "Phi khrab?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm looking forward to?"

Cheeky. Mew can't help the smile on his face. He likes cheeky. "What are you looking forward to the most?"

How easily his nong smiles. "I like, you know, when they- when they make up after a fight. You can see how much they truly love each other. And, you know, nalak nalak. I like when it's cute."

Mew is drawn to the soft, earnest way Gulf speaks. He sometimes starts off hesitant, stumbling over his words, like he's so eager to share that he hasn't quite gotten his footing.

Mew turns so that he can put an arm around him. "I like cute, too."

_________________

He's having one of his bad days. Three hours of sleep. Nothing to eat in his condo but ketchup and some pork rinds. Not his, of course. He hates greasy food. They belonged to someone else. He hasn't had the heart to throw them out yet.

He scoops Chopper into his arms. "Hello, baby boy. Hello, baby. Who's Daddy's chop suey? Yes, it's you." He kisses him on top of the head.

He's not due on set for another two hours. He could go to the gym or do more homework, or try to get more sleep. But really, he can't bring himself to do any of it.

When did he become so pathetic? It's not like him to let something get to him this much. He's had his heart broken before. Not like this, but he knows how to handle it. He should be better than this. He's a grown man, not some mooning teenager.

He grabs his wallet and keys. He needs some fucking food in his house.

________________

It's ironic. Mew was just thinking last night that he wishes he could look into Gulf's eyes more. Everyone's right to call him the pretty one. Those big, round orbs seem to captivate him every time he looks at him. And here they are in workshop, forced to make eye contact for five minutes.

They sit cross legged in front of each other. Five whole minutes of nothing but looking into each other's eyes. Mew's done this exercise enough in acting classes and other workshops that he knows most people have a problem with it. It's intense. It's intimate. It's uncomfortable. Even he struggles with it at times. And now he's doing it with Gulf. The pretty one with the pretty eyes who feels sore when he looks at him.

P'Jane, their workshop leader, sets a timer. "Okay na?" She asks.

Mew nods.

Gulf smiles and nods, too. "Khrab." He seems almost excited. Maybe the soreness is gone.

"Go."

Mew looks at Gulf's face, taking in the sight of him. God, he really is pretty. He shouldn't be thinking such things. Not in his condition. Not about his co-star who's seven years his junior (or is it 6?) and is probably looking to him for guidance. He's the adult here.

He forces himself to look into Gulf's eyes. He expects them to be closed off the way they were before. But no, they're smiling. They're curious and eager and warm. Mew feels himself smiling, feels his eyes shrink, and he sees Gulf do the same. They struggle to keep their eyes more open.

Gulf's eyes look teasing now, almost challenging him to keep going. He doesn't have a problem sustaining contact anymore. Mew blinks rapidly to keep his contacts from drying. He doesn't want his vision blurred, not for this. Gulf isn't letting down for a second, his gaze is laser focused and determined. The kid likes a challenge. Mew can give him that. He leans in a little to show he means business. Gulf does the same. Brat. They stare each other down, hell bent on making the other one crack.

Then Gulf stops. He doesn't look away, but his intensity is gone. He's smiling again, laughing almost. His face breaks into a smile so genuine and radiant that Mew thinks he might lose it right then and there. Except he can't look away. He doesn't want to. Gulf is smiling and he's still leaning forward, more so than before.

His eyes soften into something Mew can't identify yet. He'll soon learn his co-star's expressions, only a matter of time. For now, there's a gentleness in Gulf's eyes, a sort of welcoming. As if to say, would you like to know me? And despite Mew's apprehension, worry, fear- he recognizes that he does want to know his Nong. And he wants Gulf to know him back.

But Mew can't be thinking clearly. He hasn't been sleeping or eating. He's seeing things that aren't there. He's lonely. He's imagining possibilities with the pretty boy in front of him, and he has no right to. They're vague fantasies at best, shapeless and without detail. No definitions, merely feelings. Feelings of belonging, of trust, of companionship. Warm and alluring sensations that prey on his loneliness and emptiness. He's touch-starved in a way he never was before.

Mew can recognize temptation easily. Avoiding it is harder, but misery has a way of providing willpower that happiness never could. He can't give in to these thoughts of Gulf and the false promises that beckon so sweetly to him. He can't yield to delusion in the wake of his heartache. The only offer his co-star has placed on the table is partnership in this project. So why doesn't it feel like enough?

Denial is a powerful force. The only thing stronger, apparently, is Gulf's gaze. Being held in it has stripped Mew of his repudiation and brought him face to face with the undeniable fact that he is attracted to his junior. He has been from the first moment he looked at his arrogant face and saw, for just a moment, a glimpse of vulnerability. Ever since he noticed the shape of his eyes and the plumpness of his lips.

It's as if Gulf can see his inner conflict. It's probably etched on his face. Here lies Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat, devoted father of Chopper, who died after succumbing to his fatal weakness of pretty guys with pretty eyes and lips just made for kissing.

Gulf's eyes seem to search Mew's for answers. He's curious again. He's forcing Mew's walls down with his brilliant, beautiful eyes, almost pleading to be let inside. Gulf actually rises to his knees, inching closer to him.

Fuck, is he trying to kill him? Mew mirrors him, getting up on his knees to meet his nong's eyes. Gulf looks triumphant. The little brat thinks he's won. Mew makes his eyes soft and dreamlike. Bedroom eyes. Let's see him take that.

A flicker of amusement appears on Gulf's face, and Mew suddenly reconsiders his recent life choices. His co-star's eyes are now languid and acquiescent. Enticing. Alluring. Mew never stood a chance, did he? He starts to back off, starts to lean back from his knees, but Gulf grabs him by the shoulders and holds him there. His eyes are so beautiful, so captivating that Mew wants to stay here all day, just looking at him. Which is a dangerous thought to have.

He shouldn't do this. Hasn't he learned his lesson? Nothing good came from pretty guys with pretty eyes and lips just made for kissing.

Mew looks away. Gulf releases him and they both sit back down. He looks at P'Jane. "How much time did we have left?"

P'Jane stares for a second. She turns to look at P'Mame and P'Tee at the other end of the room. They all look stunned. Gulf looks confused. He smiles at Mew as if to ask, _what's that about?_ Mew's done this exercise enough times to know that this isn't how it usually goes.

P'Jane shows them her phone. "It wasn't an alarm, it was a stopwatch. I wanted to see how long you could go."

Mew looks at the time on the screen. Eight minutes.


	13. Mew: Spoon Contact

P'Pee shows up at workshop again. "Just had a fitting with your wifey," he singsongs to Mew. "I was right."

"Hm?"

"He's taller than you."

Mew scoffs. "I know he is. Everyone can see that." Why is it such a point of contention?

Pee dismisses him with a wave. "Yes, pancake, but the little darling insists that you're taller." He nudges him with his elbow. "Know what I mean?"

Not this shit again. Mew sighs and shakes his head. "He's a nice boy. He's just being respectful of his elder."

"I don't think so, lover." He sidles up next to him. "I think he likes the idea of you being taller. And bigger. And stronger. Ooh, Mew, hold me."

"Stop na."

He giggles and pets his arm. "You know, mango, you're taller than me… "

"Phi…" he wishes he could return the banter, like the old days, but he can't. He can't think of anything clever.

"Oh, sweetie." P'Pee rubs his arm. "Sorry na kha. Phi is just playing na okay? You want some water? When did you eat today?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't."

Pee slaps his hand. "Bad! But at least you're honest. Ay! What am I going to do with you?"

_________________

Mild sits in Mew's lap, blabbing away about people he can't keep up with.

"I told Copter he needs to change his hair, because- whoooey!" He shakes his head. "It's just awful. He looked so much more handsome in 2 Moons, with it combed back."

"Uh-huh."

Mild turns to look at him. "Thinking about him again?"

"No, quit asking." Mew doesn't want to think about his dream last night. The nightmare where he's looking through the house for him, but he isn't there.

"You sure?" His tone is teasing. He can't be referring to his ex then. So, who?

"Who the hell are you talking about, Nong?"

"You know," he says, leaning in and wiggling his eyebrows. "The pretty one."

Oh, that him. The pretty one. He'd be lying if he said he hasn't been thinking about him. It's been days, but he's still shaken up about the eye contact exercise. Looking into Gulf's eyes left him feeling stripped and raw. Vulnerable in a way he never thought he could be. And there was something else, too. Something in that boy's eyes sparked a curiosity in Mew that he hasn't been able to shake since then.

This is not to say that Mew won't be difficult about it. "The pretty one? You mean Kaownah?"

"Don't start."

"Ah, you mean Kok."

"You know who I'm talking about."

"They're all pretty, Mild. It's BL."

His junior smacks the side of his leg. " _The_ pretty one. Nong Gulf. You know, the one you always avoid talking about, because you don't want to seem obvious."

Trust Mild to call him out on his shit. "Oh, is he pretty?"

Mild snorts. "He's fucking beautiful, don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Mew's noticed. More than he ought to. How is he already feeling attraction toward someone when he still feels so shitty inside? He supposes Gulf is just that pretty.

"Nong Gulf!" Mild waves him over. "Come, come, come!"

"Shia, Mild, what are you doing?" He stiffens in his seat. What's he supposed to say?

Mild ignores him. He stands when Gulf arrives. "Nong, I was just warming up your seat." He gestures to Mew's lap. Alai wa?

Gulf laughs and looks to him for his next cue. "P'Mew, are you going to be my chair?" His smile is so sweet natured that Mew feels like he's melting. This is not good. Behind Gulf's shoulder, Mild is nodding vigorously.

Mew doesn't have the strength to fight Mild. Not this early, and not on an empty stomach. "Apparently." He sighs and holds his arms out.

Gulf giggles and eases himself into Mew's lap. The weight of him feels comforting and warm, like a giant teddy bear.

Gulf looks back and smiles. "Am I heavy na khrab?"

Mew shakes his head. "No worse than Mild." He shoots his friend a dirty look. Mild seems rather pleased with himself.

Gulf leans back against him. The kid has no inhibitions. "I like this chair," he says.

Mew winces and closes his eyes. He's fucked.

_________________

Mew's early to workshop. Again. His junior's here, too. Sitting alone. Again. Mew shakes his head and walks to the table where Gulf is eating a bowl of congee.

"Morning, Nong." He sits next to him and offers his hand.

Gulf looks up, eyes warm and shining. His fingers lace with Mew's. No more doggy handshake. "Morning na, Phi." He nods at his bowl. "Will you have some of my congee?"

What a strange thing to ask. Mew raises an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong? Does it taste funny?"

Gulf shakes his head and smiles. "No, it's really good. But I never see you eat na khrab. Here, have some." He offers the bowl to him.

Great, have the others recruited him as part of the babysitter squad? "I already ate, thanks."

Gulf looks down to stir the porridge and mutters, "Doesn't take an auntie to see he hasn't eaten."

"Wa ngi na?" Little brat.

His junior looks at him with round, stubborn eyes. He lets go of his hand to wrap both arms around him. Alai wa? "You're already smaller than last week. I can tell the difference." He squeezes him until Mew feels he can't breathe.

"Too tight, Gulf."

His co-star gives him pleading Bambi eyes. "You'll have some khrab? Hmm? Naaa? It's really good."

"Who put you up to this?"

Gulf looks taken aback. God he's so cute. "So, other people have noticed too?" He pokes Mew's chest. "Eat na, P'Mew. You're so skinny. I'm worried about you."

"Worried?" So, he knows. It was only a matter of time.

"Of course." Gulf lets go and picks up his bowl. "Graduate school is a bitch, but it's no reason to let it kill you." He raises a spoonful to Mew's face. "I have to fatten you up so I can cuddle you properly."

"Wa ngi na?"

Gulf smiles over the top of the bowl. "Haven't you seen the script? I spend a third of it under you or on top of you. Phi needs to add some cushion. Eat up, hubby." He shoves the spoon against Mew's mouth.

Fucking brat. The congee is hot against his lips and it sticks to his skin. Gulf is relentless. Mew finally capitulates and opens his mouth. The little shit awkwardly sticks the spoon in, but doesn't tilt it to let the contents out. Mew has to clamp his lips down to scrape the congee into his mouth. He glances at Gulf. The brat looks too amused.

Mew swallows and glares at him. "Just give me the spoon next time." He reaches out for it. The kid clearly hasn't fed anyone before.

"Mai!" He snatches it away. "It's my congee, so I'm feeding you." He stirs the porridge and readies another spoonful.

Mew lets out a sigh. "If you're going to do BL, you need to learn how to feed someone properly."

His co-star looks curious. Eager to learn. That's good. Pee was right- he's not some hot shot kid who thinks he's got all the moves. Gulf looks at him with such earnestness that, honestly, Mew kind of wants to tell him to calm the fuck down. But damnit, he's too cute.

"Teach me." It's not a request. It's a demand. Why does Mew get the feeling the little shit will end up bossing him around some day?

He reaches for the spoon, but Gulf pulls away again. "Nong…" he threatens.

The change in his attitude is immediate. He smiles again, laughing at little. A cute little laugh, punctuated and sincere. "Khrab. I promise I'll behave."

"Good boy. Give me the spoon." He takes a scoop and lifts it up to show him. "You have to bring it juuuust to their lips without touching, and let the other person come the rest of the way. Otherwise, you risk running the spoon or fork into their lips. Not sexy."

"Not sexy," Gulf repeats.

"Be sure to tilt the spoon or fork so that it slides easily into the other person's mouth." He demonstrates bending his wrist to show the congee sliding off the spoon. "You can't have them chasing after the food. Not sexy."

"Not sexy."

"Finally, eye contact. Both people should look at each other until the spoon or fork touches their lips, and then you look at their lips like it's turning you on."

Gulf laughs. "What, just from taking a spoonful?"

Mew drops the spoon into the bowl and gives him a look. "Yes, and you have to sell it. Fans love it, so you better learn." He scoops another helping of congee. "Let's try na."

Gulf nods and looks at him expectantly. Mew lets his eyes soften as he brings the spoon toward his co-star. Gulf looks nervous, but his eye contact is steady. He's at least good with that part. As the spoon nears his mouth, he pauses, letting his junior wrap his lips around the spoon. That's when Mew turns on the bedroom eyes, smiling like he's got a secret as he stares at Gulf's lips. He can't help but admire how cute and pouty they are. This was not a good idea.

Gulf's eyes widen and he swallows hard. "Huh. Phi is so good at this. I almost felt shy." He takes the spoon and bowl from him. "My turn-naja."

Dear God. As if the little brat weren't cute enough as is, now he's actually trying to be cute with his _naja_.

They repeat the process. Gulf brings the spoon toward him. Not close enough. Mew gives him a look, and he takes the hint. He takes the spoon in his mouth, and Gulf… well, he's at least looking at his mouth.

Mew swallows the congee and narrows his eyes. "Is that your sexy face?"

"...not anymore?"

They're fucked. Mew ruffles his hair. "Okay, what BL have you watched?"

"SOTUS." The answer comes easily. Mew wonders if he watched it for research or out of interest. Not that it matters to him.

"Perfect. I want you to look at me the way Kongpop looks at Arthit."

His junior nods. "Ah. Okay na. Singto's very sexy."

Do straight boys say things like that?

Gulf suddenly looks cross. "P'Mew khrab, don't think I forgot." He holds up another spoonful. "You still need breakfast."

What a brat. Mew would be annoyed, except… except he likes brats. He feels something tiny and delicate form in the center of his chest, where he used to feel love. It's amusement, at the very least.

_____________

Gulf is asleep. In his arms. Snoring. Tiny little baby snores. Mew looks across the workshop room, where P'Tee is still on his urgent call. For now, he and Gulf have Type's rehearsal bed to themselves.

When P'Tee returns, Gulf stirs and snuggles closer to him. "Warm," he murmurs.

______________

"He does _what_ with the ice?" Gulf's distressed expression fills the screen.

Mew laughs and holds his page up to the camera. "He sticks it up his-"

"Nope." Gulf shakes his head. "No more. My _everything_ just clenched."

They laugh together through their phones, so hard that Mew's eyes water. The image of Gulf clenching his _everything_ keeps popping into his head.

Gulf's screen goes dark. "Nong? Where'd you go?"

"I'm Googling if it's safe to shove ice up your ass."

"You know you won't actually have to do it in the show, right?"

"I know, I know…" he gasps and returns to the chat. "Phi, I don't know who I feel worse for."

"What do you mean?"

Gulf reads from his screen. "Inserting ice cubes into the anus produces a suppository-like reaction. The melted water will loosen any feces and cause symptoms similar to diarrhea." He looks into the camera with wide eyes. "What the fuck?"

Mew winces. Another conversation he didn't expect to have with Gulf. He doesn't really have the strength for it, but the terrified look on his junior's face leaves him no other choice. "That's why it's important to clean out before having anal sex," he explains.

"Cleaning out, Phi?"

He takes a deep breath. "It's when you use an enema to clean the residual waste out of your rectum."

"Oh." He hesitates before asking, "How does Phi know this?"

"It's complicated."


	14. Mew: Floor Contact

Mew looks at the shirt at the bottom of the drawer. He forgot it was there. Apparently so did _he_ , because he didn't pack it with the rest of his stuff. And now it's here, where it doesn't belong, a reminder of a life they no longer share. 

If he were a stronger man, he'd throw it out or donate it. Or he'd wear it, if he liked it enough to make it his own. But Mew doesn't feel very strong these days. He touches the faded lettering on the front, remembering how it used to scratch his face whenever he laid his head upon his lover's chest. It was worth the discomfort back then. He places the rest of his laundry on top of it and closes the drawer. He'll deal with it when he's a better version of himself. 

He bought some pork skewers on the way home. He's eaten half of them. That's a good start. He keeps forgetting how nice it is to have warm food in his belly. 

The pit pit pit of Chopper's paws on the floor bring a smile to his face. He opens his arms for him to jump into. "Come here, baby. Oh yes, oh yes, you're the world's best boy. Nalak nalak. Do you love Daddy?" He plays with his paw. "Someone has to love Daddy, right?" 

He gets four hours of sleep that night. A personal best these days.

_______________

"You're not even making excuses to be here anymore," he tells Pee. 

They stand against the wall while the younger actors horseplay in the middle of the workshop room. Mild has tackled Kaownah to the floor and starts to tickle him. The poor guy writhes in agony. 

"Aaaaand there goes his shirt," says Pee as Kaownah's belly is exposed. Mild pauses to pull it down before resuming his torture. 

"Aw, he's so considerate," says Mew. He and Pee pretend to gush at each other like proud aunties. 

Kok sneaks up behind Gulf and attempts to knock him down. He manages to push him to the ground, but his tickles have no effect. The moment of confusion is all Gulf needs to overturn him.

"P'Mild, help!" Shouts Kok. He reaches out for him. 

Pee shakes his head. "Where do they get their energy? If I had that stamina, I wouldn't waste it rolling around on the floor with a bunch of… oh, wait, I would." 

Mew laughs. A real laugh that shakes him and makes his eyes shrink so much he can't see. He takes that as a good sign. 

It's Boat who jumps in and yanks Gulf off of Kok. The two of them drag him across the floor, and poor Gulf can only laugh, his eyes wide and excited. They drag him clear to the other side of the room and leave him there. 

P'Pee tsks. "So handsome." He shakes his head. "If I looked like him back in my day… well, let's just say I'd need more toothpaste." 

Mew shakes his head. "Looks like you already get enough action." 

Pee waves his hand in the air. "What's enough? Does anyone know?" He sighs and pretends to swoon. "I do miss the romance, though. And the flirting. You remember what that is, don't you, eggplant?" 

"Never heard of it."

"Google it."

"I'm in mourning." 

Pee gasps. "Oh, don't tell me your libido died." He points to Mew's crotch. "Is he a goner, peanut?" 

"No, stop that." He slaps his hand. "I mean the death of my relationship." 

"Excuse me, but didn't we already have that funeral?" P'Pee pretends to toss his hair. "There were beers and carbs and lady strippers who gave me skincare advice. You wore black. I wore Gucci. Rest in peace, Mew and-" 

"Don't."

"P'Mew khrab?" 

Mew winces and turns to Gulf. "Alai?" Gulf makes wai at him and P'Pee.

His junior rests his hands and chin on Mew's shoulder. "They've tired me out." He pouts at him. "So, I thought I'd join you." 

Mew and Pee exchange looks. _Careful_ , Pee's eyes say. Like he has to tell him. Gulf rests his head against his. He smells like crispy and fruity shampoo. 

"Maybe you should sit," he suggests. 

Gulf purses his lips and considers it. "Mai. Unless Phi sits with me. P'Pee, you too." 

Pee's eyes are wide and his face looks nervous. "Of course na. Here, come sit with me, little jackfruit." They walk to some nearby chairs. Pee turns to him. "Mew, you sit on the floor." The safest place, really. Besides in another room.

Mew's seen the workshop schedule. They've been doing a lot of group stuff, but soon he and Gulf will be working together more. A lot more. They have a shit ton of love scenes, and the workshop crew will want to make sure they're comfortable with all the physical contact. It'll be worse than the staring exercise.

Gulf looks amused. "Should I sit on the floor, too?"

"No, papaya." Pee pats him on the arm. "You just went to second base with the floor. You've had enough." 

Gulf's laugh is generous. He doesn't look shy at all. And yet his overall demeanor seems delicate and tentative. It's the strangest contrast, and it's driving Mew crazy. He wants to pay extra attention to everything his co-star says and does, but he knows how dangerous that can become. 

He's not even listening to what they're talking about. P'Pee does the majority of the work, keeping the conversation going. Mew tries not to notice how Gulf keeps sneaking glances at him. He tries not to pay attention to that sweet, lilting speech pattern of his. He also tries not to focus on that cute, pouty mouth of his as he talks. If there are two things Mew can't resist, it's bambi eyes and cute lips. And Gulf Kanawut aka The Pretty One, has both. 

_____________

"Okay na kha," says P'Jane. "Mew, Gulf, we need to start building the intimacy between the two of you."

Gulf nods and flashes an excited smile. "Khrab."

Mew dies a little inside.

"Our goal is to go a whole day being physical with each other- holding hands, back hugs, sitting in laps," P'Jane explains. "But we're going to start off small and let you build up to it gradually."

Gulf turns to him and frowns. "I think we can do the whole day now, don't you, Phi?" 

Alai wa? He looks at P'Jane, who seems intrigued by the prospect. Shia. 

Gulf leans toward him. "Don't you think we can do it, P'Mew?" He touches him gently on the arm. The touch, as simple as it is, is enough to make that tiny thing in his chest start to open. Whatever the hell it is. 

He considers the option. Getting it over and done with in one day does seem preferable to slowly increasing their physical time together over however many days. All they need to do is prove they can be convincing on screen. 

"Khrab." He nods at P'Jane. "We can do it in one day."

_________________

They're given a simple schedule: run lines in their scripts, lounge around together while discussing the first scenes to be filmed. Cuddle while answering the pre-selected questions that are supposed to jumpstart their intimacy. Feed each other. Mew is grateful he gave Gulf that lesson already. 

Mew sits along the wall with Gulf nestled against his chest. Gulf is quiet again. It's before noon, though, which is expected. His junior doesn't seem to reach full battery until after lunch. But Mew's getting bored looking at the lines on the pages. He likes talking too much, and his co-star is giving him nothing. He can smell the fruity shampoo scent coming off him and Mew finds himself leaning in, absentmindedly wrapping his arms around Gulf's shoulders. He feels warm and squishy and comfortable. 

Gulf snuggles into his embrace. He turns his head and gives him a scolding look. "P'Mew is so hard."

"Wa gni na?"

Gulf rubs his back against him. "Cus you're so skinny. You're hard and bony. I'll make sure to feed you extra at lunch, okay na?" He pats Mew's leg as if it's already decided. As if he doesn't have a choice. Given what he knows about Gulf so far, he probably doesn't. 

_________________

They're told to hold hands while walking through the building, counting the number of chairs in each room. A simple enough task that will adjust them to holding each other's hands. 

The exercises feel redundant. Haven't they already been holding hands, cuddling, and sitting in each other's laps for a while now? It's a waste of a workshop. Imagine if they had gone along with spreading it out over several days. And yet Mew can't really complain. He likes the feel of Gulf's hand in his, of how well they fit together. He's always had much bigger hands than his partners, and even though Gulf's are smaller by comparison, the fit is perfect. 

He squeezes his hand. "P'Mew, are you keeping track of the chairs?" 

"You haven't?" 

Gulf shakes his head and smirks. "You're holding my writing hand." Damn, they've already done 5 rooms. He laughs into his shoulder. "We're fucked." 

It's not the first time Mew's heard him curse, but why does he find it so cute today? And… a little hot? No. Not hot. Not cute. He shakes his head. "We'll be fine. The point is this." Mew holds up their entwined hands. "Counting chairs is just a reason for us to hold hands." 

His co-star nods thoughtfully. "Is it difficult for most people?" He looks at him with those curious eyes. "It seems natural to me." 

"Only because we've been doing it for a while. You were shy the first time, remember?" 

"Looking into your eyes, not holding your hand." 

"Well, not everyone finds it so natural, Nong. Some guys have an aversion to it." 

Gulf makes a face. "Shouldn't do BL if you can't be with a guy." He seems to be talking to himself more than to Mew. He's also sure that Gulf means acting with a guy, not _being_ with a guy. His co-star will need to be more careful with his wording when it comes to interviews and fan meetings. It's a delicate balance of teasing and not promising what you can't provide. 

He raises an eyebrow at him. "So, you think you can handle it, then?" 

There's a hint of a challenge in Gulf's eyes. He seems eager to prove himself. "I kissed you for real, didn't I?" 

Well, there is that. "Decent start."

Gulf purses his lips again. "Does P'Mew doubt me?" He caresses Mew's hand with his thumb. 

Shia, what has he started? "We'll see after today, won't we?" He didn't mean to sound as flirty as he did. Old habits die hard. 

Gulf stands in front of him and does something with his eyes that make them sparkle and go full Bambi. "What will Phi give me when I pull it off?" 

Nope. Nope. Nope. Mew struggles to maintain control. "Don't you know? A job well done is its own reward." 

He tilts his head to the side and pouts. "But it will be special from you, P'Mew." A mischievous smile appears on his pretty face. "Thilak." He can't sustain a straight face, and he laughs almost immediately. Gulf will need to learn conviction and follow-through. 

Mew makes a face. The brat. He pulls on Gulf's hand and brings him in tightly against his chest. Gulf's eyes go wide and his chestnut lips part in surprise. Mew brings his free hand to Gulf's face, looking deep into those captivating eyes as he strokes his cheek. 

"Tell me what you want from me," he says to Gulf. 

His co-star swallows and blinks a few times. "Everything."


	15. Mew: Mental Contact

Lunch is pork skewers, salad, and fruit. Mew fears for his throat as Gulf brings the pointed stick to his mouth. He only taught him how to feed with spoons, after all. 

"Open up-naja…" Gulf waves it in front of his face. 

Mew gives him a deadpan look. "Not sexy, Gulf." 

His junior cracks up, but calms when he sees Mew's expression. "Khrab." His face takes on a serious tone. "Open up, big boy…" he's clearly making fun of him now. 

Mew snatches the skewer from him. "If you're not going to take it seriously…" 

Gulf grabs it back. "No, I will. I will." He nods and gives him a smile. "I'll be good for you."

Mew is grateful that his co-star is so annoying. It makes it easier for him to keep his distance and not fall for those perfect lips and Bambi eyes.

Gulf holds the skewer out for him, mindful of the space between them so Mew can close the distance. As he bites into it, Gulf parts his lips, watching as if Mew were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Shia, the kid learns fast. 

___________________

Gulf doesn't seem uncomfortable with lap sitting. The little shit seems to enjoy it. He curls into his arms, nestling against his chest. "So full…" he rubs his stomach. "Aren't you supposed to hold me, Phi?"

Mew looks down at his arms hanging at his sides. He sighs and wraps them around his junior. He reminds himself that Gulf is cheeky and bold and annoying as fuck and definitely, definitely not pretty and funny and cute. If he has to admire the brat, he should do so about his eagerness to learn, how quickly he picks up things, and his fearlessness about being physical. 

"Having fun?" 

"Hm?" Mew cranes his head to look at him. 

"Patting my tummy like that." 

Mew's hands freeze. Was he doing that? "Sorry na."

"It's okay na khrab," says Gulf. "I don't mind."

________________

Gulf lies on his side on the comforter on the floor. Serene. Relaxed. There’s something calming about looking at him, like how cats can lower your blood pressure. Mew lets out a contented sigh, wrapped protectively around his co-star. It feels comfortable and warm like this, and Mew could easily fall asleep this way. Gulf's script sits in front of them as they go through their scenes.

His nong sighs and leans his head back against him. "I don't know what makes Type likeable."

"Nothing."

He snorts and turns the page. "There has to be something Tharn likes."

"I don't know. He's cute."

Gulf looks back at him, a playful smile on his face. "Does Phi think I'm cute?"

No. Yes. No. "Tharn does." He points to the page. "He likes to tease Type. He clearly likes when he gets angry."

His co-star hums and looks thoughtfully in the distance. "Angry can be cute sometimes, I guess. Hot headed can- it can show passion." 

Mew doesn't need to hear this from Gulf, considering his temper. He remembers being told something similar by someone who used to love him. _I like you fierce like this_. Apparently not enough. 

"P'Mew khrab?" 

"Alai?" 

Gulf gets up onto his knees to face him and practically falls onto Mew's chest. Alai wa? He's like an awkward kitten who hasn’t learned to pounce yet. Mew covers his face for fear of what his long limbed co-star might do. Gulf settles along his side, curled against his chest. 

He looks up with his Bambi eyes. "I think Type is overwhelmed. Everything is new for him. He doesn't even know he likes men." His eyebrows come together in an almost comical way. "How can you not know what you find attractive?" 

Mew knows the answer. Every man like him knows the answer. It may be different for each person, but they've all had that moment where they think, _how did I not see it before_? It took Mew a while to figure out that he liked guys. Nobody told him it was unusual to stare at the boys in his classes. It wasn't as if he wanted to marry them, he just liked the way they looked. And when he felt a rush in his tummy watching the idols in boy bands, he didn't know it was because he was attracted to them. He thought all fans felt that way. It wasn't until the first time he kissed another boy in 9th grade that he realized. _How did I not see it before?_ To be fair, he likes women, too. Gender isn't really an issue for him. But he does tend to prefer guys, especially ones with pouty lips. 

Mew finds himself stroking Gulf's arm. He didn't mean to. A leftover habit. But he might as well get used to it all over again. "At least Type's adventurous?"

Gulf's traces little circles on Mew's shirt. "I never thought of anal sex as an adventure," he says. "More like he's curious. Do you think he watched gay porn before deciding to give his virginity to Tharn?" 

Mew squints and his mouth falls open. His junior has no filter, does he? Not shy at all about throwing around words like anal sex and gay porn. Perhaps he's suited for BL after all. Mew has a fleeting thought about whether his junior might share his preferences, but he doesn't want to explore that idea. That is definitely dangerous territory. 

"Maybe," he tells Gulf. "It's not the best way to inform oneself, but for Type, he could at least see how pleasurable it can be. That probably eased some of his fears."

Gulf nods. "It eased mine. Remember how scared I was when we read the first love scene?" 

"Wait, are you saying you watched gay porn?" 

"Khrab." Gulf looks up at him with such earnestness in his eyes, lips so beautifully parted that Mew can't decide if he wants to run his thumb across his lower lip or get as far away from him as possible. "I watched some of it to help me prepare."

Just like that. So candidly. So easily admitting to watching gay porn in his spare time. Mew can't help it. "And what did you think?" 

Gulf frowns. His expression is thoughtful. "I was disappointed." 

Mew can't help but laugh. Of all the possible responses, he never thought disappointed would be one of them. "What were you hoping for?" Women?

Gulf shifts to face him more. "I wanted, I guess, to see more romance. Like, you know, more kissing and holding each other." He rests his cheek on Mew's chest. "It's was just… sex." 

"Nong, do you know how porn works?" 

His co-star rolls his eyes. "Yes, I know how it works. But I thought some of them might be romantic. Are you saying gays can’t be romantic?" 

He's got a point. But that's not really the topic of discussion. "So, your biggest issue was the lack of romance, not the… penetration?" 

Gulf smiles and shakes his head. "That's kind of the point, isn't it? P'Mew, do you know how porn works?" 

Mew has never sighed a bigger sigh in his life. "It didn't make you uncomfortable?" 

His junior thinks about it for a moment. "Only if it looks like it hurts. But if there's plenty of lubrication, it seems fine. I think it's enough to have Type convinced that he'll be okay." He starts giggling. "We know Tharn has enough lube. But I can’t get over him sticking ice up Type's ass…"

Mew lets his head fall back onto the floor. Gulf will be the death of him, he's sure of it. When he looks up, Gulf is still talking. 

"...let’s say Type _did_ clean out first. It still can’t feel comfortable to have ice… ugh. I read it can feel sharp once it starts to melt. Could you imagine something small and sharp inside your butt?" He taps on Mew's chest. "Do you think you could get frostbite that way?" 

____________________

His condo is quiet when Mew gets home. No _pit pit pit_ of Chopper’s paws or _snort snort snort_ of his tiny nose. He picks up the note laying on the entry table.

_Missed my nephew, so decided to kidnap him. Mama says you can have him back if you have dinner with us at the house._

_-Jom_

_P.S. I borrowed your oatmeal cardigan. When are you going to give it to me already, Phi? It looks better on me. Naaa?_

Is it his lot in life to be surrounded by brats? Mew pulls out his phone to scold his sister, but there are a few texts from Gulf waiting for him. The first is a picture of a page from TharnType. Gulf has highlighted part of it. 

_Meanwhile, Tharn pulled his finger out, grabbing his hot ding ding stick toward Type’s ass, shaking it gently, and rubbing it along that channel he so frequently purses._

The accompanying text says, _is that what women call it behind our backs? Hot ding ding stick?_

Mew chuckles and shakes his head. Mame can write some kinky stuff, but her euphemisms could definitely use some work.

The next picture is another page. Again, Gulf has been kind enough to highlight the important part.

_Tharn’s hand caressed his ass and his middle finger poked into his butt ditch._

Mew nearly drops his phone. He hasn’t laughed this hard in a long time. The accompanying text says, _I threw my book across the room after I read this._ Understandable. 

Mew

That's what you get for reading ahead without me.

Gulf

I'm traumatized, Phi. This isn't the kind of punishment I'm into 

This time Mew does drop his phone. Why can't his co-star have just a little bit of filter? Now he has to live with the knowledge that Gulf likes to be punished? 

Mew

On second thought, you should read ahead and warn me if there's any more talk of butt ditch

Gulf

No way! I want to do it with you 

Mew

Why do you have to say it like that?

Gulf

You're the only one I want to do it with lol

Mew

Bye

Gulf

So VDO chat in five minutes?

Mew

Can't. I have to go grab the chubby one 

Gulf

Is that a euphemism for playing with your hot ding ding stick???

Mew

What? Crazy! My sister took my dog and I have to pick him up. He’s overweight. 

Gulf

Ah ok. Later tonight then? 

Mew pauses. Is his junior really that eager to video chat with him, or does he feel obligated? 

Mew

We don't have to chat every day if you don't want to. 

Gulf

Is Phi trying to ditch me?

Mew

You mean… butt ditch you?

Gulf

I never want to speak to you again

Mew

I’ll text when I get home

Gulf

ok

__________________ ___

"Open na," says Gulf. He brings a spoonful of rice and pork krapow to Mew's lips. 

Mew doesn't even think about it. He opens his mouth and accepts the food. It's been a week of Gulf trying to overfeed him to plump him up for cuddling, and it's become second nature by now for the little brat to shovel heaping servings into Mew's mouth. They're not even trying to be sexy about it anymore. It's just how lunch works. 

Gulf scoops an exceptionally big spoonful. Mew shakes his head. "Give me a break na. I still have all those shirtless scenes." 

Gulf weighs the options. "Take your shirt off." 

Alai wa? Mew's eyes shrink to confused little slits and his mouth opens as if to ask, huh? 

Gulf sets down the spoon and crosses his arms. "You heard me khrab. Let me see what we're working with." 

"We?" Mew crosses his own arms in mockery. "Are you doing planks and push ups for me na?" 

Gulf responds with a quick nod of the head as if to say, go on. He waits. Mew stares him down. Gulf picks up the spoon. "Okay, back to lunch. Open up." 

Son of a bitch. Mew rolls his eyes and removes his shirt. Several crew and staff members start to wolf whistle and cat call. He laughs and waves them off. 

"It's Nong's fault!" He shouts to them. 

Gulf smiles and cranes his head to look. "I want to see P'Mew's body," he says. No further clarification. Just that. How fucking Gulf of him. 

Feeling Gulf's eyes on him is a strange sensation. His co-star examines him, eyes roaming every inch that's exposed. Mew has never felt so naked in his life and he doesn't know why. 

Gulf nods with either appreciation or approval. Mew can't tell. "Phi must exercise a lot to look like this." He points to his sides. "But look, I can see your ribs." He reaches out to touch them. 

Mew flinches. "No, don't!" He can't hide the smile forming on his face. "I'm very ticklish." 

"Aw, Phi…" Gulf shakes his head. His smile is mischievous. "You shouldn't have reminded me of that." 

___________________

It's breakfast and Gulf is sitting in his lap. He seems amused by the pat pat pat on his belly. Mew's making quick work of a banana when he overhears a conversation from the next table.

"But you know… dai yang sia yang." _You have to lose something to get another thing._

_A memory comes flooding back to him. A bright day, sand stuck to his legs and arms. Sand stuck to his lover's face. The sound of the ocean and the sting of the sun. He held him in his arms on the threadbare beach towel from the first time they came here. He held him and he smelled like sunblock. It made his skin glisten and Mew couldn't keep his eyes off him._

_He looked around for his sunglasses. He had them earlier. His lover laughed and leaned back against his chest. "It's because you bought that bracelet in town. Don't you know? You have to lose something to get another thing."_

Mew can feel tears threatening to emerge. They sit right behind his eyes, the emotions heavy in his chest and throat. He feels like he's suffocating. He can almost smell a trace of sunblock in the air.

"P'Mew khrab?" 

He remembers the splash of the water, the radiance of his smile, and the way his voice sounded when he whispered that he was happy. He remembers feeling loved. And no less than two months later, hearing that same voice telling him that he wasn't happy, and that he wasn't sure if he loved him anymore. 

"P'Mew khrab?"

Huh? He shakes his head. "Alai?"

Gulf taps his arm. "You're squeezing me khrab." His voice sounds a little stained. 

"Shia." Mew loosens his hold. "Sorry na khrab." 

His junior looks back at him. "What's wrong, Phi?" 

Mew rubs his stomach and lays his cheek against his shoulder. "Just a ghost." 


	16. Mew: Lip Contact

_Mew walked through the house, feeling something was off. Didn't they own more books than this? Some DVDs were missing, too. Did his lover plan another movie marathon? Had he loaned them to a friend? One less umbrella was in the stand. Missing house slippers… house keys left on the entry table._

_Please, no._

_He rushed to the bedroom. Chopper jumped for his attention. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he already knew what he'd find. The door was slightly ajar. Mew leaned his head against the doorframe for support. He didn't want to see what was inside, what he knew was waiting for him._

_It was Chopper who pushed the door open, eager to jump onto the bed. The squeak of the hinges sounded ominous as Mew stepped inside their- no, -his- bedroom._

_Half of the dresser was bare. An entire side with no sticks of deodorant, no bottles of cologne, no cosmetics or face creams. He opened the drawers on the left side, his lover's side. Empty. Half the closet, empty. One toothbrush in the bathroom._

_Mew lied down on the bed. It still smelled like him. And why shouldn't it? It was only this morning that Mew left the house to go to class, kissing him on the forehead before he left. Telling him he loved him. But he had stopped saying it back a long time ago. It became, "Be safe." or "Susu na." Never "I love you" anymore. He really shouldn't have been surprised to find their- no, -his- home half empty. He shouldn't have been surprised that he was gone._

_It didn't hurt any less. It took another half hour of him lying face down on the bed, inhaling the scent of his lover- no, ex lover. No. Ex partner. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives side by side. Life partners. Wasn't that the plan? After that half hour, it finally sank in._

_He was gone. He wasn’t coming back. He didn't love him anymore._

_And that's when he cried. Curling into the fetal position, hand gripping the blanket for dear life, gasping sobs coming out of him. He couldn't get enough air, couldn't stop the choking feeling as he started to hyperventilate. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back. He didn't love him anymore._

Mew wakes in a cold sweat. Why are his dreams always so vivid? Perfect memories of events he wishes he could forget. He reaches out and touches the left side of the bed, where his partner used to sleep. _I miss you._

_______________________

Mew arrives excessively early for workshop. He couldn't get back to sleep and he couldn't stand being at home any longer. As soon as walks in, Gulf makes a beeline for him. 

His co-star looks grumpy as hell. He reaches for Mew's hand and leads him to the workshop room and over to their fake bed on the floor. Gulf practically falls onto it, pulling Mew down with him. His junior positions him to lie on his side, head resting on his arm. Mew says nothing. He's too curious to disturb the process. Gulf still looks grumpy, his eyebrows knit together, mouth pouty as fuck. When he's finally satisfied with his senior's position, he grabs the top blanket and curls into the space between Mew's arms. 

And soon enough, the little brat is asleep. 

Mew lies there, partially irritated, partially comforted, and partially confused. He looks down at his sleeping co-star. What's Tharn's line? "You look like a baby right now." Gulf looks so innocent and cute. Hard to imagine him as the bossy, presumptuous brat he really is.

Mew shouldn't be enjoying this. It's just that Gulf is so squishy and warm and he just happens to fit perfectly in his arms. Mew can't seem to stop himself from pulling him closer, snuggling against him and inhaling that scent of shampoo. Is it possible he's feeling tired, too? Well, he's always tired. But right now he feels… sleepy. 

_________________

_Get up, you bear._ Mew stirs a little. _I said get up na_. His partner's voice is so clear in his head. _You sleep too much. You hibernate like a bear._ He feels someone shake his shoulder. 

"P'Mew khrab…" the voice is different. Lighter and more melodic. Lilting. Nalak nalak. So cute. 

Mew opens his eyes. Everything is blurry. A figure hovers over him and he almost says _his_ name. But it can't be _him_. It will never be _him_ again. He blinks a few times. His contacts have gone dry. Damnit, why was he asleep? His vision clears. 

Gulf. 

His co-star looks at him with sparkling, mirthful eyes. His lips form an amused grin. "P'Mew khrab, you were talking in your sleep."

“What did I say?" 

Gulf scratches his head. "It was mumbles, but maybe... Be back soon. Don't stay in bed na all day. Something something shopper something something the new couch pillow. I love you." 

Those were the last words Mew said to his ex that morning. The last time he thought they were happy. He reaches up to rub his eyes, but stops when he remembers his contacts. "It's Chopper. My dog." He rubs Gulf's arm instead. "Sorry na khrab." 

He giggles. "It's okay na. P'Mew is cute when he talks in his sleep." 

Goddamn this kid.

P'Jane walks over. "We let you two sleep. You're ahead of schedule, since you did all the skinship in one day."

Mew blinks a few more times. He needs to get his eye drops. "How long were we out?" Whatever it was, it wasn't enough to begin digging him out of his sleep deficit. But he feels like it can get him through the day. 

Gulf looks sheepish. "Three hours." He nudges Mew's arm. "Phi is very comfortable." 

He yawns and stretches his arms out. "So is Nong." 

_________________

"Alai wa?" Mew drops his copy of TharnType. 

Gulf's video goes erratic as he props it up on a chair in front of him. When he finally stills, Mew can see him straddling a pillow on his bed. What the fuck is the brat up to now?

"Best I can do," he says with a shrug. "I'm sure you're much broader than this, Phi, but it's just for practice." 

"Do you really need to act it out?" 

His co-star freezes and stares into the camera. "Shai." He breaks into laughter and thrusts a few times into the pillow. "Wanna join me na, Phi?" 

"Wa ngi na?" He tries not to focus on the movement of Gulf's hips.

His junior laughs even harder. "Come on, it'll help both of us get in the mood- I mean into character!" He nearly falls off his pillow with laughter. 

Mew gives him the face. The _I'm so done_ face that's becoming a regular thing between them. "What's there to act out? I'd just be lying down." 

Gulf gestures at him as if to say, _go on then_. Mew grumbles and lies back on the couch. Fucking brat. Why can't he ever say no to him? Why doesn't he ever want to? 

Gulf clears his throat and holds up his book. He starts thrusting again but stops himself. "Oh, wait… up and down, it says." He pauses to think. He tries bouncing and ends up shaking the entire bed. 

Mew can't hold back his laughter. "It's sex, not a trampoline." 

"Aow." He makes a face. "It's not like I've ever ridden a man before, phi! There's a learning curve." He looks up at the ceiling in thought. 

Mew sighs and sits up. "You're overthinking na. Just rise up on your knees. No, not that much- how long do you think my dick is?" 

Gulf leans back with laughter. Great, he's laughing at his dick. Why did he think this was a good idea? "Yours or Tharn's?" He smacks the page. "Because Tharn's hung like a horse." 

"You're so crass." Mew won't admit that he finds it amusing. 

He sighs and puts down his book. "What I meant to say is that my lover Tharn is exceptionally well-endowed and it gives me much pleasure. Better na?" 

Mew's not entirely sure if it is. "Fine, do it however you want. It's just practice anyway." 

Gulf nods and scratches his head. "Hmm, what does it look like in porn?" He rocks up and down on his knees and adds a little grind to it. "Shia, this is a workout. How does anyone keep this up? ...Phi? Phi?" 

Gulf is trying to kill him, isn't he? He shakes his head. "Just start the scene already." 

"Okay na." He rocks slowly, closing his eyes and biting down on his lip. "Ah… ugh, yes… Tharn…"

Mew has made a huge mistake. Why are they still reading the book, anyway? They’ve had their scripts for a while now.

Gulf looks into the camera, his eyes burning and wanton. "That look on your face, Tharn…" 

Mew responds with a moan, as scripted. 

Gulf grins and leans forward, bracing himself on the pillow as if it were Tharn's chest. "It's like when you're playing the drums… mmm, fuuuuck." He moans as he lowers himself back down, slowly, as if taking him one inch at a time. "It's the same look as when we're having sex." 

Shia, for someone who couldn't hump a pillow a second ago, Gulf is certainly making up for it. Mew looks at his next line on the page. "What, you wondered about this?" 

He hums in response, slamming down harder. "I don't want anyone else seeing this face." He fixes him with a look that burns into his core. 

Mew stares at the screen, mouth gone dry. This was not what he expected when he suggested they read the book together. “Um, Nong?” 

The change is instantaneous. The steamy bedroom eyes disappear and Gulf looks at him with his usual cute expression. “Khrab?” 

“How about we run lines instead?” He gets off the couch and rushes to get some water. “No point in acting out scenes that won’t be shown. You’re not going to ride me that long in the actual episode.” 

"Oh, right." Why does he sound disappointed? He resumes riding the pillow nonetheless. "This is probably great cardio, eh Phi? It would probably have to be sex for me to want to exercise." He laughs and rolls off of it. 

Mew downs his entire glass of water in one go. 

____________________

The time has finally come to rehearse the kissing scenes. Gulf looks eager, like he's readying himself for a challenge. Not unlike an athlete psyching himself up for a sporting event. At least he doesn't look like he's dreading it. It shouldn't be a big deal, anyway. They've already kissed. Mew can still remember that day with perfect clarity, when his co-star scared the shit out of him.

_"The hell was that, Gulf?"_

_His co-star looked sincere. "I went with my feelings."_

_"Wa gni na?"_

_Gulf nodded. He looked so insistent. "Elio is curious. He wants to know what it's like. So do I." He looked only somewhat apologetic, but not really. "I figured since you've done BL you wouldn't mind. Is it okay na if I kiss you na khrab?"_

_What could Mew do? He knew the benefit of actually kissing in rehearsal. He hates BL kisses half the time. They look so fake. He gave Gulf a stern look. "Does this mean you'll take the role seriously? Go in depth with the character?"_

_His junior nodded with a solemnity that came off as cute, rather than serious. "Khrab. I want to go all in."_

_"Then from now on, kiss me."_

____________

He's moaning. The little shit is underneath him, running his fingers through his hair, and moaning. Mew tries his best to ignore it, tries not to acknowledge the tug of Gulf's hand. But damnit, it's starting to get to him. He wasn't ready for a scene where Gulf was supposed to reciprocate. He wasn't ready to hear those sounds coming out of him. Did he even read the script? He's supposed to be drunk and passed out. Not conditions under which Mew would ever kiss someone, but he'll have to try and figure out what's going on in Tharn's head. 

Mew breaks the kiss. "Why are you kissing back?" 

Gulf looks at him, eyes still dreamlike with his arms newly empty. "It feels right to me," is his simple reply. So Gulf. 

"You're passed out."

"Woken by true love's kiss?" 

"Stay asleep." Why does he get the feeling this scene will be a problem when they start filming? 

Gulf rolls his eyes and does as he's told. Kind of. His lips are still somewhat kissing him back. Brat.

_______________

Mew's never faked a blowjob before. First time for everything. They stay clothed for rehearsal, with Mew miming removing his shirt. He backs Gulf against the wall, leaning in to smell him. "You smell nice." 

For all of Gulf's exaggerated eyebrow action, Mew is impressed by his love scenes. The brat is a master of subtlety. The tentative kisses he gives as Mew presses him to the wall are just enough to imply that Type is curious about it, drawn to the idea of being intimate with another man. And when Mew starts to kiss along his neck, the shaky breaths that come from Gulf awaken something dormant in him. He kisses his way down, over his shirt, of course. Gulf's hands roam his back and shoulders. Such tender, hesitant touches that gradually turn sensual. Mew sinks down to his knees. His part is done for a while, and he can't help but look up and watch his co-star to see what he'll do. 

Dear God. This was a bad idea. Gulf's heavy breaths are hitting home, evoking the sexual frustration that Type is experiencing. Gulf bites his lip, his perfect and plump lip, his eyebrows drawn together in an expression of ecstacy. 

Mew is fucked. 

___________________

It's been a few days since the blowjob scene. Mew still can't get the image of Gulf biting his lip out of his mind. Seeing it on his phone screen was one thing, but seeing it in person has him wrecked. He also can't get his co-star out of his arms. In the mornings, when Gulf is grumpy and sleepy, they won't talk to each other, but Mew will wrap his arms around his waist and pat his belly. Sometimes Gulf is alert and pleasant, and he'll usually try to shove food down Mew's throat. Lately, they've been falling sleep in an armchair in the lobby, with Gulf sitting in his lap. Mew's always early since he can't get any sleep at home, but he's not sure why Gulf is always here at that time. 

It's for the skinship, Mew tells himself. It's for the intimacy between Tharn and Type. It's not because hugging Gulf feels cuddly and nice (even though it does). 

Gulf leans his head on Mew's shoulder. "P'Mew khrab?" 

"Hm?"

"Is it true, what they say about you?" 

So, it's finally happened. His co-star knows about… everything, probably. "What do they say about me?" Does he even want to know?

His co-star grins with a kind of childlike wickedness. "That you're addicted to video games." 

"Oh." He reaches over to rub Gulf's belly. "Yes, but I haven't played in a few months." 

"Few months?" His junior turns to face him, eyes wide, lips at half pout. 

"I've been dealing with some things."

Gulf nods. "Right. Your master's degree. Phi is very studious. We should play together sometime. I want to see Phi in action." 

______________

"I said hold the line." Gulf's voice is low and flat through the headset. 

Mew's eyebrows come together and he looks at Chopper. What kind of ice cube is up his butt? Chopper yips. He doesn't know, either. 

"I'm trying khrab."

"Try harder."

Shia. Why is he so serious about it? "Nong Gulf?" 

"Khrab?" His tone is suddenly normal and chipper. 

"Nothing…"

"They're coming! Get ready. Get the guy with the machine gun. The guy with the- no, does that look like a machine gun to you?" 

Mew can't decide if he wants to punch Gulf for being fucking annoying or kiss him for being fucking cute. He looks at Chopper for help. Chopper attacks the throw pillow.

___________________

Mew gets to workshop late. Traffic incident. He walks into the room to find people standing around and chatting. 

"It's an improv exercise," says P'Jane, handing him a slip of paper. "Find a group and have a conversation as that character. The group has to guess who you are."

Mew looks at his slip. Techno. He can work with that. He finds Mild and Tong in the center of the room and he bounces over to them and puts his hands on their shoulders. "Peun!" _Friends!_ "What'd I miss?"

Tong, who plays Thorn, looks exasperated. "Will you help me talk some sense into him? He bumped into someone at the cafeteria, and he refused to apologize." 

Mild scowls, his body language tense. "Why should I? He ran into me. He can go to hell, for all I care."

Ah. Mild is clearly Type. Tong is probably… Champ? 

Mew goes to console Mild. "Oy, mung!" _Whoa there, you_. He laughs nervously. "Let's just calm ourselves. There we go. Deep breaths. There ya go, buddy. Phew…" he pats him on the shoulder and laughs. 

Tong shakes his head. "Maybe it's best we didn't trade rooms after all." 

Mild furrows his brows. "Yeah. I'm not gonna trade because I want Tharn's hot, sexy body all over meeeeee." He singsongs the last few words. He's clearly reverted back to himself. He pokes at Mew's chest, then pokes at his nipple.

"Ay!" Mew finds himself giggling, swatting away Mild's attacks. 

"Tharn, I want your big sausage! You're so manly and hunky, Tharn. Sweep me up in your big, strong arms and take me!" Mild pets him all over and makes kissy faces at him. 

Mew can barely see from laughing so hard. He's always grateful for Mild. He remembers him coming over after it happened, playing old K-pop and J-pop from when they were teenagers, Mew playing the guitar and Mild making up songs on the spot about 7-11 or shrimp paste. 

He looks to Tong for help, but the bastard is laughing at them. Gulf walks over, placing a hand on Mild's shoulder. He leans in and smirks. 

"Did I hear you call my name?" 

Mild snaps back into character. He leans away from Gulf, looking intimidated. "No! Why would I call your name?" 

Gulf arches an eyebrow and smirks. "I'll give you a reason to call my name tonight." He pinches Mild's chin and forces him to look up at him. The look in Gulf's eyes is one of hunger.

Mew's brain has short-circuited. Seeing Gulf as the adorable tsundere often hits him right in the chest with its cuteness. But seeing Gulf as the confident top… well, it's hot. Gulf's not even Tharn at the moment. At least not how Mew imagines him. Mew’s Tharn is more playful and teasing. A giant puppy dog who's enamored with a feisty kitten. Gulf, on the other hand, seems to be in full seduction mode. Almost like Tharn in the shower. And Mew kind of likes it. 

Mew considers himself a dom. Not only in bed, but often in personality. He's usually the more flirtatious one, the more physically affectionate, and he's almost always the one who runs the seduction. But seeing this side of Gulf is making him question a few things about himself. Seeing a cute, doe eyed brat suddenly asserting himself and taking charge would be enough to bring Mew to his knees and make him beg.


	17. Mew: Soul Contact

"Chop Chop!" Mew calls into the hallway. The _pit pit pit_ of Chopper's paws signal his arrival. He yips and jumps onto the couch with Mew. "Choppy baby! Who wants dinner? Oh, is it you? Is it Khun Chopper who wants dinner? Oh, yes, I believe so." 

He carries him into the kitchen, making helicopter noises. "Dinner this evening will be a succulent paté of lamb and rice, mixed with the finest and crunchiest kibble." He kisses the top of his head and readies the food while singing an old love song his mom used to play. 

"P'Pee, are you still in the bathroom?" He shouts to the living room. "What snacks do you want for the movie?" 

He heats the wet dog food in the microwave and continues singing. He's forgotten some of the words to the song, but he mumbles his way through them. He remembers being 7 or 8 and sneaking his mom's cassette to listen to it in his room. Even then, he used to dream of falling in love. He smiles, remembering the tingly, fluttering feeling of new romance. It's one of his favorite things. 

He notices a figure in the doorway. "Phi, why didn't you answer me na?" 

Pee looks speechless. He gestures vaguely at him. "Oh, guava… when did you start singing again?" 

Mew forgot that he had stopped. It feels weird, thinking back on that period. It seems like another version of himself. He shakes his head. "I don't remember when. At least the last two weeks?" He laughs. Progress. Maybe he'll get through this after all. "What snacks do you want?" 

Pee raises an eyebrow. "I brought my own snacks, love. No offense, but ketchup and pork rinds aren't my thing." 

Mew laughs again. He opens his cabinets and gives Pee a pointed look. "I threw out the pork rinds." He gags just thinking about them.

Pee's jaw drops at the sight of Mew's well-stocked shelves. "Baby, you've got food! Did that handsome Mild buy you groceries again?" 

He makes a face. "No! I've been shopping on my own!" He opens his fridge and laughs when Pee shrieks. 

"When did this happen?" He rushes to Mew and squeezes his arm. "Did you get laid or something?" 

Of course Pee would ask that. Leave it to him to attribute progress to sex. "No! You know I can't do that if I don't feel anything." 

Truth be told, he's felt something lately. Not about sex and not enough to be concerned about. But something. That tiny thing in the center of his chest that's been… sprouting? Like a seed. 

"Have you tried?" Asks Pee. "I'm willing to help you."He walks his fingers up Mew's arms. 

He grins and places his head on Pee's shoulder. "Will you cuddle me after?" His propensity for banter is finally back. 

"Oh, God no." Pee walks away, waving him off. "I don't do that gay shit. No, banana, that's how you catch feelings, and given my taste in men, I'd rather buy more toothpaste." 

"Aw, I thought I was your taste."

"Baby, you're everyone's taste."

Mew thinks about a certain pair of pouty, chestnut lips and Bambi eyes. He kind of hopes he is. 

_______________________

_"You could have talked to me. We're supposed to talk about these things. Not sneak off like you're ashamed."_

_"I tried talking. You weren't listening."_

_"I always listen."_

_"I said I wanted more space."_

_"Didn't I give you that? You hardly slept at home anymore."_

_"Your home. I have my own apartment."_

_"It's our home. I told you it's yours, too. Everything I have is yours."_

_"I don't want everything that's yours. I want something that's mine."_

_"What the fuck do you want me to do, then? I stopped asking you to move in, didn't? Even though all your shit was here. I didn't push you to end your lease."_

_"It was too much, Mew."_

_"What would you have me do, baby? You want me to give you less of my heart?"_

_"I can't give you what you want."_

_"What the fuck does that mean? I just want you…"_

_"No, you want forever."_

"P'Mew khrab?" 

Hmm? Mew struggles to gain consciousness. 

"P'Mew? P'Mew khrab."

It's always like this when he falls asleep with Gulf. Even on the hard workshop floor, when he passes out on Gulf's tummy or snuggled against his back, he struggles to wake up. This is in direct contrast to being at home, where the slightest thing will wake him and he can't get back to sleep. The fact that he even loses consciousness is astounding. But he supposes that having someone cuddly and soft like Gulf to hug can contribute greatly to one's tendency to nap. 

He opens his eyes, remembering what's waiting for him on the other side of his heavy eyelids. Gulf. Gulf smiling. And often, Gulf wearing his retainer, which makes him look so adorably dorky and cute that he wants to squeeze something whenever he sees him. What a fucking loser. Nalak nalak. 

"Alai?"

Gulf pokes him between the eyes. "You said a name in your sleep." 

"Did I?" He tries to remember what he… oh. The fight they had over the phone when Mew finally decided to call him out on his cowardice. The nerve to skulk away and not even talk to him about it like adults. Like partners. Like people who used to love each other. 

"Yes, a name. I think it was-"

"Don't."

He expects Gulf to look at him with confusion or concern, but he doesn't. His eyes are soft and sweet. Gentle Bambi eyes that roam his face before coming back to meet his. Gulf rubs his arm. "It's okay na, P'Mew. It was just a dream. It can't affect you anymore khrab." His voice is so delicate and loving. "I'll make P'Mew forget his nightmares na." He smiles so radiantly and beautifully that Mew wonders how he can be so lucky to have such a co-star. But then again, he chose him, didn't he? They chose each other. 

He reaches for Gulf's hand and squeezes. "If anyone can, it's you." 

_________________

Mew wraps his arms around Gulf's stomach and begins patting it. "Why do you sound so hollow?" 

"Oh." Gulf lifts his sweater so that only his tee shirt is showing. "I have a tummy." 

Mew cranes his neck to see. There, sticking out from the tee shirt fabric, is the tiniest, most adorable little tummy he's ever seen. How did he miss that? All those times he's held him and patted his stomach. Where was this cute little pudge of baby fat hiding? He catches himself pinching it. 

"Where has this been the whole time?" He asks. 

Gulf looks sheepish. His smile is big and cheeky. "I suck in when P'Mew touches me."

Well, that needs to stop immediately. Mew's laughing now at his co-star being so cute that he just wants to squeeze him all the time. The little sprout in his chest has begun to bloom, warmed and watered by Gulf's playful smile and his little huh-huh laugh. He shakes Gulf's belly. "Don't suck it in na. It's cute!" 

Gulf gives him a face that seems to say, quit patronizing me. "Why? So you can make fun?" 

Mew looks at him appreciatively. How could anyone make fun of- okay, yes, Gulf is very easy to make fun of. Mew laughs just thinking about that. It only makes his junior look even more indignant. Which, of course, makes Mew laugh even harder. He nuzzles against Gulf's neck. "Mmm… no. It's so I can play with it. Is that okay na?" He presses his nose to his ear. "Can I play with you?" 

There's a pang in his chest when he sees Gulf's ear turn red. Is he affecting him this much? His co-star seems to consider it. "What do I get to do to P'Mew?" 

Cheeky little shit. Mew can't help but laugh some more. He squeezes at Gulf's tummy. "I already let you kiss me in workshop!" 

His junior purses his lips. "That's for work. This isn't." He points to his belly. 

Mew leans closer and grins. "Does Nong want to kiss me in real life, too?" 

Gulf's eyes go wide and they dart around the room. He's done that as Type, too, whenever Tharn flirts with him. He wonders whose habit it was first. 

"Mai," says Gulf. "If I wanted to kiss you in real life, I wouldn't barter for it." 

"Oh?" 

His co-star looks smug. "I would make you want to kiss me, and I would make you work for it." His smile hints that he's joking, but Mew has a suspicion that he's not.

________________

Another morning, another grumpy Gulf. He's quiet and solitary all the way until lunch, and even then he says nothing as he chooses a picnic table in the courtyard. Mew asks if he can join, and his response is a curt nod of the head, no eye contact. 

They eat in silence. Mew's still getting used to his co-star's moodiness. The fact that he'll go all morning without talking (other than workshop exercises or rehearsal) is alien to Mew, who can't go very long without talking. He wonders if his junior is upset with him, either now or other times. Gulf usually snaps out of it halfway through the day, but until then, is he angry? Is he angry at him? 

Mew finishes his plate. It occurs to him that not long ago, he could barely start eating, let alone finish everything that was given to him. Hell, he even ate the orange slices that were used as garnish. And he's still hungry. He can't remember the last time he had such an appetite. Then again, he's been buying groceries again, so perhaps he's re-awakened his metabolism. He peels the banana he brought for dessert. 

Out of nowhere, Gulf turns to him and nudges his arm. "P'Mew, I figured it out na." 

His demeanor is completely different. Upright posture, eyebrows relaxed, excited smile. It's got to be lunch. Morning Gulf must be hangry Gulf. Mew can't help but smile back. It's like seeing a friend after being apart for so long. Except that friend is his co-star, and the last time they saw each other was just yesterday. 

Mew takes a bite of his banana. "Hm?"

"The gay porn thing." 

The bite of banana goes sailing across the courtyard. "Wa ngi na?" He laughs at the serious look on Gulf's face. "What, you just figured out how gay porn works?" 

Gulf shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. "I know how it works, Phi!" He leans in and whispers, "The trick is to prepare your partner properly and get lube that comes with a flip cap or a pump so you can dispense it with one hand." 

Gulf is going to be the death of him. How does he talk so casually about anal sex tips… when he's never even had anal sex? Or has he? Mew closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Nong, just how much gay porn do you watch?" 

"Shh, that's not the point." He shifts his position on the bench to look at him. "The point is, I figured out how to find the romantic stuff. I used to search for romantic but that was hit or miss. The trick is to search for things like anniversary, lover, Valentine's Day. That sort of thing ." He nods, clearly pleased with himself. 

Mew squints at his junior. How much effort did he put into this search? "Gulf, if you wanted to see men being romantic with each other, why not just watch BL? Why porn?" 

Gulf gives him a look that says, oh come on. "BL kisses look fake sometimes. I don't want to do that. I want our kisses to- I want them to be passionate." He looks so sincere. 

Mew covers his face with his hand. "So, your inspiration is porn?" No wonder the little shit's been slipping him tongue. 

Gulf's nod is slow and exaggerated, almost a small bow. "Absolutely. They need to be sexy, because sex is an important aspect of Tharn and Type's relationship. Each kiss and each sex scene shows a different stage of them falling in love. So, I want to find examples to help me portray those emotions through sex specifically."

Mew blinks at him a few times. Whenever he thinks he's got Gulf figured out, the little shit surprises him. He's really got to give him more credit for his character analysis. He may even end up better than him. And it does make a little sense that Gulf would turn to porn for some answers. He hasn't seen these things before. He's straight. Presumably. How would he know what to expect? How would he know what other men look like in bed if he's never experienced it? 

Mew chews on his lip. "So, you're saying you want to see what sex between two men looks like when they have feelings for each other, or at least when porn stars pretend to have feelings for each other?"

Gulf nods earnestly. "Yes. I want to see them make love." 

Here lies Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat, loving father to Chopper, victim of Gulf Kanawut's incessant discourse on gay sex. 

_______________

P'Pee pats him on the shoulder. "Get him. The pretty one's going to hurt himself." He points to Gulf across the room. He's with the other actors, Mild, Tong, Kaownah, Boat, et al. His sock has slipped down his foot and is threatening to trip him. 

Mew sighs. Why is it his job to look after the brat? "Nong!" He calls. 

Everyone's head turns in his direction. What did he expect, being the oldest? He sighs inwardly.

"That nong!" He points to Gulf. 

________________

"Phi khrab!" 

Mew turns toward the sound. Gulf stares at him and then looks to the other people around him, who all responded to the call. 

"Nice going," teases Kaownah. "We're the youngest ones. Which phi did you want?"

His co-star smiles and points to Mew. "That phi!" He beckons playfully. 

The workshop room is filled with a collective _ooooiiiyyy_! They really need a better way to differentiate each other. 

________________

They want him to what? 

"Lift him," says P'Jane. "If you are able." 

Mew's not going to fall for that trick. Of course he's able. Willing is another story. Do they see how big Gulf is? This isn't Gun Atthaphan they're talking about, this is literally someone taller than himself (though nobody will admit to it except P'Pee). Their centers of gravity are in the same place, for fuck's sake. He's going to have to hold him by his ass. 

"I'll give it a shot."

P'Jane leaves to get some pain medicine, just in case.

They start with Gulf on a tall platform so Mew can test his weight before trying to lift him from the ground. He looks up at him and laughs. 

"Nong, you may want to blow your nose." 

Gulf looks down and smiles. "Booger?" 

"Big one." 

He flares his nostrils. "Am I attractive?" He purses his lips. 

"So handsome." 

"Nong is good looking?" He scrunches his face.

"Breathtaking." 

They giggle at each other like kids. Gulf wraps his arms around Mew's shoulders and leans down. "Khun Mew khrab, do you have a tissue-naja?" 

Fuck, why does he have to be so cute all the time? Mew runs his hands around his waist, which doesn't help at all. "Hmm, I like you calling me Khun…" 

Gulf's mouth falls open into a laugh. "Ah. What about me?" 

Mew shuts his eyes tight. What is he going to do with his greedy nong? Always wanting something from him. But it's more than that, isn't it? It's not just that Gulf wants a prize or a treat. He hasn't asked about that since the skinship day. Every time after that, he's asked for the same thing that Mew asks for. If Mew gets to squish his tummy, Gulf wants similar permissions. If Mew wants a special nickname from him, Gulf wants one from Mew. He wants to be put on equal footing with him, to have a reciprocal arrangement. To have the same exclusivity of rights. And Mew doesn't know what to think in this moment. He feels the tiny bloom in his chest expand, caught up in these thoughts. 

He reaches into his pocket for a tissue. First things first. "Here na." He rests his cheek against Gulf's chest. "What do you want me to call you?" 

"Tua-aeng." _My own_.

"Wa ngi na?" He looks up at Gulf's mischievous grin. Cheeky. 

Gulf laughs his adorable huh-huh laugh and blows his nose. "Okay, okay. I'll think of your name, and you think of mine." 

Mew settles back against his nong's chest. What would he call him? He’s called plenty of people thilak, but never tua-aeng. Maybe one day. Or never. Never is safer. He squeezes him tight and whispers, "Yai Nong…"

He feels Gulf's hands rest on his shoulders. "Khun Phi." 

P'Jane walks over to them. "Ready na?" 

They look at each other and nod. Gulf eases off the platform and into Mew's arms. 

"Shia…" Mew struggles to keep them steady. 

Gulf makes little quacking sounds as he looks from left to right. "You have to support my butt, Khun Phi!" He shifts his weight further onto him. 

Mew grabs his ass and hoists him up to a more manageable height. "Fuck." 

"No, that's tomorrow's rehearsal. Episode 4." 

Fuck. 

___________________

Mew finds P'Mame amusing. She's witty and funny and her braces are cute. He likes flirting with her, because she never takes any of his shit. "P'Mame khrab, why don't you rewrite it as TharnMame?" 

"Because I'm out of your league na kha." 

She always smells nice, she's very intentional with her characterizations, and the woman can write some raunchy shit. But right now, with freezing water dribbling down his chin, he's strongly reconsidering how much he likes her. 

"Cut khrab," says P'Tee. 

Both Mew and Gulf wipe around their mouths. 

Gulf furrows his eyebrows and pouts at him. "Why did it have to be ice?" 

Mew arches an eyebrow. "At least that's the only ice part we're showing." He nods his head downward to imply the little matter of ice being slid into Type's delicate area. 

Gulf squirms underneath him. He looks at Mew with wide Bambi eyes that melt into a smile. "Okay, khrab, I think I prefer your frozen kisses to that." 

Frozen kisses. Mew likes the sound of it. When P'Tee calls action again, he reaches for another piece of ice and tries his best to pass it to Gulf with his tongue. 

"Hugh!" Gulf lurches forward. He sits up and coughs for a bit. "I swallowed it khrab." 

________________

Mew leans forward to kiss Gulf. Just another Wednesday. His co-star looks so small beneath him. His eyes are perfect orbs, and his lips look so inviting. It's one of those days that Mew loves his job. 

He presses their lips together, savoring the feel of him, running his hand down to Gulf's waist. His co-star opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, and Mew gladly obliges… until he tastes something that makes him want to throw up. 

He recoils, trying not to gag. It doesn't work, and he does end up gagging. 

"Mew, are you okay na khrab?" P'Tee puts a hand on his back. 

"Khun Phi?" The look on Gulf's face could break his heart. He looks so hurt and embarrassed. 

Someone hands him a bottle of water and he chugs it. He can't get the taste out of his mouth. He looks at Gulf and shakes his head. "Pork rinds," he gasps. 

P'Pee rushes over, holding a toothbrush. "Here na kha, little mung bean." 

Gulf gives Wai and takes the toothbrush. Pee hands him a giant tube of toothpaste. Mew catches his eye and raises an eyebrow at him. P'Pee pretends not to notice. 

_________________

Mew walks around his home. The kitchen cabinets are stocked, the fridge is full, and the poor throw pillow is in the garbage in Chopper sized shreds. Mew's okay with it. He's not the one who picked it out. He asked Gulf to help him choose a new one online, and it now lies on the couch, with Khun Chopper sleeping on top of it. Mew likes having his hair products and deodorant spread across the entire dresser, having more room in his drawers for all his folded clothes, and his hanging clothes are nicely spread out in the closet. The left side of the bed is home to Chopper's new doggy mattress and several of his stuffed animals. The evidence of that day is all but gone, and Mew's home feels full again, rather than half emptied. Except for one place. 

The gaps in his bookcase taunt him whenever he sees them. They're from the books that _he_ brought over and never took back home, so Mew donated some of his own books to make room for them in the place that they shared together. After all, he slept there, ate there, had most of his clothes there. Hell, he even had some of his mail sent there. Was Mew wrong to assume that he thought of it as his home, too? 

_"No, you want forever."_

It was true. He thought they both wanted forever. He thought he heard it once upon a time, but his 20/20 hindsight has shown him the inaccuracy of his favorite memories.

_Heavy rain, the kind that pounded mercilessly on the roof. Mew had opened the windows so they could listen to it. The lights were off in the entire condo, and they made love to the sound of the ceaseless downpour._

_Mew looked down at him, his face illuminated by the streetlamps shining through the glass. His lover's eyes were shut tight, mouth open in rapture as Mew pushed further inside him. He had never been more in love. He slowed his pace, dragging it out and making them both moan._

_"I love you," Mew told him._

_His lover looked back and smiled. "I think I could love you forever."_

"I think," Mew says aloud, looking at the empty spaces on his bookshelf. Therein lay the truth. Loving someone and thinking you could love someone are two different things. 

He grabs a handful of books. His plan is to rearrange them so they don't look as sparse. Nothing that some decorator tricks won't fix. He pulls more books off the shelf, and something flutters in the air. Mew grabs it and regrets it. It's a photo of them looking happy. He searches it for some indication that it was a lie, that he missed all the signs. That he was oblivious to his partner's unhappiness. But there isn't one. They both look happy, they both look like they're in love. Was he just a fool for thinking it could last? 

____________________

Mew looks at the anguish on Gulf's face. Gone are Type's smugness and anger, and in their stead is such a profound pain that Mew has all but forgotten that he's watching Gulf. Instead, he sees Type- perhaps for the first time, fully rendered- confessing the abuse from his past. His words come out in broken gasps, his face pinched as tears gather in his eyes. By the time Mew grabs him and clutches him to his chest, Type is a sobbing mess, and Mew can feel chills running down his spine. He knows Gulf can act, but this is far beyond what he expected from a newbie. 

"Excellent, N’Gulf. Cut na khrab." P'Tee claps softly. 

Gulf is still crying, his tears soaking into Mew's shirt. He rubs his back, trying to soothe him. His junior won't let him go. 

"Yai Nong?" He smoothes his hair. "Yai Nong, are you okay na?" 

Gulf pulls back, eyes pink and swollen. "It hurts Khun Phi… I don't- I don't know- don't know why it hurts na…" he curls into himself and continues to sob.

Mew has seen this before. Hell, he's experienced it before, and more than once. It's hard to bring all those emotions to the surface, to breathe life into them, and then be expected to shut them off immediately afterwards. If anything, Gulf is more endeared to him after this experience. Seeing how much of himself he puts into his character has given Mew yet another reason to admire him. 

He turns his co-star around so he can hold him from behind. "It's okay na, Yai Nong… it's okay. Khun Phi is here khrab. I'm here." 

P'Jane hands Gulf some tissues. He wipes his eyes and blows his nose. Mew wishes there were more he could do. He wants to stop his junior from crying, wants to comfort him and bring back his beautiful smile. He rubs his tummy and presses his cheek against the side of his head. His crying has stopped, and his sniffles are quiet. He nods to signal that he's okay. 

They stay like that for a while. Gulf rests his entire weight on him, and Mew is more than happy to bear it. His eyes are still a little puffy, but no longer pink. He stares into space, his expression devoid of emotion. Everything has been drained out of him. 

Gulf finally looks back at him. "Khun Phi khrab?" 

"Hm?" 

"Thank you na khrab." 

"Of course." He pats his belly. "You were incredible, Yai Nong." 

He can see Gulf's ears turn pink. "Khun Phi…" he wiggles in Mew's embrace. "It's only because you made me feel safe."

"Hm?" He looks down at him. "I did?" 

Gulf nods in that slow, exaggerated way of his. "Khrab. When you were Tharn and I was Type, and you said you would always hear me out." His smile is small and sad. "And you said that you were on my side… I believed you. And I felt like- I felt I could open my heart to you." 

Mew knows Gulf means it as Type, that Type felt this way about Tharn. He knows this, but the bloom in his chest doesn't, and so it blossoms even more at Gulf's words. And although Mew knows he shouldn't say it, knows that once he says it, he may very well speak it into being, he decides that he's been unhappy for too long, and that one more little flirtation won't hurt. 

"Be careful," he whispers. "Or you'll make me fall for you." 


	18. Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

Gulf is terrifying. Not in the traditional way. Not in a scary or intimidating way. But something about his laser focus as soon as he steps on set makes the hair on the back of Mew’s neck stand up. Something in those Bambi eyes when he switches from Gulf to Type that tells Mew he’s found someone who takes the job as seriously as he does, that he understands the craftsmanship involved in their performance. 

Mew has encountered this kind of maturity in older actors and people who already have serious personalities, but seeing it from his cute and playful nong confirms the feeling he had the first time he acted with Gulf. That despite their differences in age and experience, they’re equals in work ethic and artistry. And to have found that in someone he chose, someone who brings about this soreness in his chest… well, it’s terrifying. 

Something’s been nagging at him. Something feels incomplete in his transformation to Tharn. He’s not quite in character yet, even though he should have been for a while now. Was it really the best idea for him to start acting again? It's not too late to become a professor. He likes studying and learning and teaching. He can finish this job without going all in. How many other BL actors have done the bare minimum?

He doesn't have to connect with Tharn to act like him. He can pretend he's in love with Type without knowing why. It won't be his best performance, but it'll be enough not to fuck up Gulf's career. They'll finish the fanservice circuit and he'll retire to academia. After all, he's 28, playing an 18 year old, making out with a 21 year old. Maybe after this he should do something more his own age. Like not being a college student. Except for his PhD. Shia.

He lies down on one of the dorm beds. Tharn's, he thinks. He just needs to calm down, try to understand Tharn's character and personality. He can do this. Pree made decisions he didn't agree with, but he was able to put himself inside his head to show where his character was coming from. He can do the same with Tharn. 

Gulf falls onto the bed next to him and sighs. "Khun Phi khrab? I have a question."

Mew can only grunt in response. He's too tired for real words. 

"Is Khun Phi upset with me?" 

Alai wa? He musters up the strength for a slurred, "Wa ngi na?"

Gulf’s voice is soft when he finally responds. “You look disappointed. Well, P’Mild says you do. I can’t really tell.” He laughs his cute huh-huh laugh and nudges him. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“Crazy,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re fine. I’m disappointed in myself. I’m having trouble connecting to Tharn. I still don’t _feel_ him. Not fully.” His arm reaches toward Gulf out of instinct, seeking that contact that brings him such peace. Sensing him lean into the touch already has him feeling better. 

“Let me help na, Phi? What can I do?”

He thinks back on the moments from workshop when he felt he understood Tharn the most. Rehearsals felt too disconnected. Reading lines felt too much like preparation. The only times he felt as if he could get into Tharn’s head was when he talked about him… with Gulf. 

“Shai,” he looks at his junior, fighting the hesitation in his gut. “Now that we finished reading the book… could we continue to video chat about our characters more?” 

Gulf’s ears turn pink. “Phi still wants to talk to me each night?”

“Don’t get full of yourself.”

“If we chat every night, I’ll get full of Khun Phi.” He giggles into Mew’s shirt. 

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Why do you have to take it like that?" 

Fair enough.

____________________

"Do you think it's because he's the middle child?" Asks Gulf. 

Mew looks up from his dish rack. Huh. He leans across the counter toward his phone. "You mean like middle child syndrome?" He resumes putting his dishes away. 

Gulf says nothing. 

"Yai Nong?" 

"Hm?" There's the sound of scrambling over the speaker. "Sorry na khrab! I nodded, but I forgot we're not on video chat." 

Mew shakes his head. It's a good thing his co-star is so cute. "Nong, would you rather do video-"

"Can we do video chat?" Gulf interrupts. 

Mew smacks his forehead. Why did he think this was a good idea? 

The video flickers on his phone, and Gulf's nose dominates the screen. Mew shuts his eyes and stifles his laughter. They're not going to get anything done at this rate. 

"Khun Phi?" 

Mew opens his eyes. Gulf sits on a sofa, his hair fluffy and unstyled, wearing his retainer. His acne stands out on the screen, and the lighting makes his forehead look shiny. Not the ideal conditions for making one look attractive, and yet Mew finds his chest constricting and his breath hitching at the sight of him. At the end of the day, he's still the pretty one. This wasn't one of his best ideas. 

"What were you saying, Nong?" 

"Khrab." He nods and smiles. God, that smile. "I'm thinking if Tharn is the middle child, he may be more- alai, what's the word?- hungry for attention or love? So, even though Type is being awful to him, he's still giving Tharn attention?" 

Mew considers it. He's looked into the middle child angle. But given how much attention he gets from his little sister and his mother, he doubts that's the issue. He points this out to Gulf. 

"Khrab." He pinches his chin and purses his lips. "He's very observant, na? Maybe he can see that there's more to Type's anger than just prejudice." 

"Is that enough reason to love someone so hateful?" 

Something changes in Gulf's expression. His eyebrows come together and his eyes shrink in size. "He's not hateful by nature," he says. His voice is so small. 

Mew closes his mouth. He was going to say more, but he thinks better of it. He comes up with something else. "Do you think Tharn has a hero complex?" 

Gulf's head snaps up, his eyes rounding out again. "Hero com… hm, maybe? It explains why he keeps trying to help Type even when he's a dick to him. And the way he responds to Tar and can't keep his distance because he wants to help." 

Mew smiles at his co-star. "You thought about the Tar interactions, too?" 

"Of course. Have to keep an eye on my hubby." He laughs, showing off his retainer. Dork. 

__________________

"Khun Phi, you told me to," says Gulf. His eyes are steadfast, not quite defiant. Yet. He knows Gulf well enough by now. 

"I said to throw it hard, not with all your strength." He's not trying to go home with bruises. 

"You said to throw it hard so you'd get mad for real." 

"Well, that's what you got." He shakes his head and touches the spot on his neck where Gulf threw the earbuds at him. The little shit left a welt. 

Gulf throws his hands in the air. "Then I did exactly as you asked." He crosses his arms and kicks at the air. "Shouldn't ask for something and get angry when it's given." 

For fuck's sake. Would it kill the little brat to just say sorry? Mew knows what happened. But whether he or Gulf are in the wrong, he should at least apologize for bruising him. He traces over the outline of the welt to see how big it is. Hopefully makeup can cover it. 

Gulf stands on his toes to look at his neck. "Khun Phi, are you hurt?" 

Fucking really, Gulf? Mew gives him an exasperated look. Gulf's resolve seems to melt and his arms uncross. He reaches for his neck and starts rubbing it. 

"Shia, Nong!" Mew flinches. "You're not supposed to push it back in. It's tender." 

Gulf sucks air in through his teeth and scratches his head. "Sorry na, Khun Phi." He places a hand on Mew's shoulder to steady himself and he tries again. His voice is soft and light. "Khor thot na khrab. Sorry, P'Mew. P'Mew, don't be mad at Yai Nong. Don't be mad na, Khun Phi. Yai Nong will be good for you na. Promise." 

To be honest, the rubbing is making it worse, but Mew can withstand the pain if it means Gulf will continue to be cute. His precious little ducky voice quacking all kinds of adorable versions of I'm sorry . That's all Mew wanted, anyway. An apology for the welt.

He sighs and relaxes his shoulders. "Okay na," he says. "But you shouldn't make promises you can't keep." 

"Aw." Gulf peeks around and gives him a petulant expression. "I can be a good boy if I want to." 

"That's the problem. If you want to." 

Gulf laughs his adorable huh-huh laugh and leans his forehead against Mew's arm. "Okay, Khun Phi. I'll try to be a good boy. Better na?" 

Mew figures it's the best he'll ever get from Gulf. He nods and grabs his hand. "Okay, stop that. It's like you're trying to start a fire." 

"Oh." Gulf looks genuinely confused. "I was trying to be gentle." 

"That's the sad part." Mew laughs and squeezes his hand. "You're so rough. No offense, but I feel bad for your faen." Lover. 

Gulf laughs again and squeezes back. "That would be you, Khun Phi." 

Mew knows what he means. He means Type and Tharn, but he feels a flush of heat across his chest and cheeks all the same.

____________________

"Gulf, where did you put my phone?" 

His co-star looks up from his script. His eyebrows are drawn together in confusion. He'd look cute if Mew weren't already irritated. "Where you told me to put it," he answers, as if it were obvious.

"It wasn't there." 

"Then someone took it out." 

Mew shuts his eyes. "What do you mean took it _out_? " He opens them to look at his junior.

Gulf's eyes widen. "Out of the bag. You told me to put it in your bag."

For fuck's sake. "I asked you to put it _on top_ of my bag." They're two different prepositions.

Gulf rolls his eyes. "Why would you want it on top of the bag and not inside it?" 

"Because I was going to put it in my pocket." 

Gulf throws his hands up. "If you were going to put it in your pocket, what does that have to do with the bag?" 

Mew covers his face with his hand. "I just wanted it on the bag so I knew where to find it. On the bag."

"On, then." Gulf uses a mocking tone. "Why even mention the bag if it has nothing to do with the bag? You could have told me to put it anywhere on the table." 

"Because," he says through gritted teeth. "The bag is a specific place, not just somewhere on a random surface." 

Gulf crosses his arms and sighs. "So, if it's so specific, why didn't you just try looking inside the bag na?" 

"Because I asked you to leave it on top!" Now he's the one throwing his hands up. 

"Don't raise your voice at me!"

He sighs and places his hands on his hips. "Fine. But you could have just followed my request. Why is that so hard?"

"Or…" Gulf closes the distance between them. "You could have taken a second to look inside the bag, because maybe someone didn't want your phone to get stolen." 

"Or…" Mew leans in, their faces close to each other. "I would have assumed you still had it, because I clearly said to leave it on top." 

Gulf purses his lips. It's only mildly, moderately distracting. "Well, I'll do better next time, now that I know you like it on top." 

They look at each other. Gulf's eyes dart around the room. At least he's realized what he's said this time. 

Mild walks by and pats Mew on the arm. "Just kiss already, for fuck's sake." 

__________________

The extent to which Mew likes Gulf's tiny little tummy is somewhat disconcerting. It's weird, right? It's definitely weird. It's not like Mew's got a tummy fetish or anything. If that were the case, Gulf's miniscule little pouch would hardly qualify. And he's never had a thing for tummies before this. Mew likes his men lean. Taut. He likes abs just as much as any other guy. But Gulf's tummy seems to do something to him that no abs or pecs or biceps have ever accomplished, and he has no earthly idea why. 

Maybe it's something that's entirely Gulf, and that's what gets him going. Maybe it's because it's so fucking cute and squishy, just like his nong. It's not like it turns him on or anything. Well, maybe a little. He'd be lying if he said he's never thought of biting into the plump flesh of Gulf's tummy. Not that he thinks about those things. Rather, it makes him feel… happy? Amused? Warm. Everything about his nong makes him feel warm. 

__________________

Gulf is walking around in nothing but boxer shorts. Mew knew they were shooting the shower scene today, but for some reason he remembered it as they did it in rehearsal, fully clothed. He groans inwardly as his co-star pads by with his bare feet making _slap slap_ sounds on the floor. Shirtless Gulf is so… cute. His co-star turns to look at him, his eyes round and curious, pouty lips parted in a question. Fuck cute. Gulf is gorgeous. 

Mew is nervous as he dangles the boxers in front of Gulf. How long has it been since he's done a love scene? According to P'Pee, Mild, and a few of their other friends, love scenes are Mew's specialty. He practically rewrote the book on BL with his performance as Pree. After his full mouth kisses and the iconic scene where Pree pushed up his lover's knees, fucked him raw, and used his mouth to slip an engagement ring on his lover's finger as they came together, nobody was going to be satisfied with awkward side kisses like Gxxd and Bas anymore. He had officially raised the bar. 

No pressure. 

He looks at Gulf, so beautiful and lovely. If he were Tharn, seeing his asshole roommate with nothing around to wreck or throw at him, seeing him so tantalizing and pretty, and being Tharn, a veritable sex god… well, it seems revenge is a dish best served hot. And what better way to get back at a raging homophobe than to convert him? He's going to show Type exactly what he's been missing. He's going to make him feel so good he'll never think about anyone else but him when he touches himself. He'll make it so Type will never want anyone else's mouth on him but his. What's a little hate sex between roommates? 

Mew pushes his way into the bathroom, backing Type against the wall. He peels his shirt off- for real this time- letting the little shit take in the sight of him. If Type really is closeted, then this will surely bring him out to play. Mew's no longer sporting the emaciated ex-boyfriend look, thanks to a certain brat who's been force feeding him, and these days, Mew's physique is better than it used to be. He sees Type sneak a glance at him and he smirks. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

He places his hands on the wall on either side of him, leaning close to take in his scent. Type smells like Gulf, and it drives him insane. He kisses him and he can feel Type just barely kiss back. He knows what his hotheaded roommate wants, even if he doesn't know it himself. 

His kisses move down to his neck and chest, pressing his lips to Type's warm skin and smelling Gulf's scent. He feels Type's hands squeeze at his arm and scratch at his back. It's not even rough this time, and part of him- the Mew part- kind of wishes it was. His own hand reaches beneath Type's towel and caresses his leg. They're kissing again. Mild kisses, though Mew suspects they'll cut away at those in post production. Type's hand is at his chest, grabbing and scratching where his heart is, as if he's trying to reach it. He wonders if Gulf is doing that on purpose. He didn't do it at rehearsal. 

Tharn makes his way further, kissing along Type's sternum, but it's Mew who nips at Gulf's tummy on his way down. He regrets nothing, especially after the shuddering breath that comes from Gulf right after. Tharn gets to work, but Mew takes a knee and watches for his cue. 

It's even worse than rehearsal. Gulf's had some time to practice his close-up, and fuck, it's so much hotter now that he's shirtless and they're in an actual shower and there he goes, biting his lip and breathing heavy. Gulf is somehow managing to simultaneously convey Type's inner conflict and his utter surrender to this moment, and he does it so beautifully. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gulf really looks in the throes of passion, but he decides this is neither the time nor place for such thoughts. His breaths increase in intensity, and as he digs his nails into Tharn's shoulder to signal his cue, Type lets out the softest moan that will live in Mew's memory forever. 

He rises up, inching closer to Type's lips, looking for a sign that he's won. 

"I told you," he says, looking back and forth between his eyes and his lips, "I'm not only good at talking." 

His roommate looks conflicted. Good. Soon he'll begin to question everything. He'll remember this moment whenever he showers. And when the day comes that Type gives in to Tharn, will Tharn reject him or accept him? 

Type is still shaking. Tharn wants to warm his skin with his own. He eases in for another kiss, certain that Type will acquiesce. He can feel the want and the need radiating off of him. How badly Tharn wants to satisfy those cravings, to show his jackoff roommate how it's done. All he needs is to finish things with one good kiss to give him something to think about as he falls asleep. He sees the look on Type's face, the pleasure still coursing through his body, the tilt of his head as they come together for a kiss...

Type pushes him away. 

Tharn is surprised. He thought he'd be irritated, but Type's huffy protests hint more at denial than disgust. He can see how he's getting to the little shit. And considering how quickly he came, well, Tharn hasn't lost his touch in the last six months. 

"You frickin…" Type snatches his towel off the floor and throws it at him. "Wash that for me." He's not so much demanding as flustered. God, he's cute. Tharn decides that for as long as they have to live together, he will do whatever it takes to make Type that flustered and horny. He watches him leave, an amused smile on his face. 

"Aaand cut na khrab." 

Mew shakes his head. He closes his eyes and smiles. He can feel Tharn still giddy inside him, feel that connection he's been looking for. _There you are_. All he needed to bring it out was a brat.


	19. Five

Fuck, it's sweltering. The aircons were too loud, so they shut them down. Mew's makeup is sweating off, and the hair and makeup staff are going to give him an ear full. He spots Gulf at the snack table. The behind the scenes crew is pointed at him, and he uses it as an excuse to be near his co-star. 

He squeezes at Gulf's baby fat, savoring the soft squishiness of it. "Yai Nong is my stress ball," he says, laughing. 

"And what does Khun Phi have to be stressed about?" Gulf turns to face him, his eyes round and teasing. One look into those eyes and Mew is lost. Are his own eyes betraying him, revealing the unwarranted feelings rebelling inside him?

What does he have to be stressed about? God, if he knew. But he doesn't want Gulf to know, doesn't want his junior to feel sorry for him. He has enough people feeling sorry for him. "Things I haven't had to think about for a while," he says. It's as close to the truth without revealing too much. 

"Khrab," Gulf nods. "Girl trouble?" 

If only. Should he bother talking to women again? He does like women. He likes their pretty voices and the cute way they say _kha_. He likes the sound of them laughing and he likes seeing them get excited. Perhaps it's time to leave behind pretty guys with pretty eyes and lips just made for kissing. They’ve only ended up hurting him. Besides, he likes being around women. He grew up around a lot of them, and perhaps being near more feminine energy will help him heal.

He rests his chin on Gulf's shoulder. "No, I never have trouble with girls." It's true. He's only been in a relationship with one woman and gone on a few dates with two others. And given the number of times he's been cheated on, none of them were women. He really should give them another shot. Especially since his attraction to Gulf should never have gone this far. 

His co-star tosses a rice cracker into his mouth, bringing attention to his plump chestnut lips. God, they’re distracting. The only thing better than staring at them is kissing them. 

"Feed me next," says Mew. Honestly, he’s surprised Gulf hasn’t done it already, given his tendency to shove food into his mouth. 

Gulf hovers his toothpick over a strawberry. "This one?" 

"Too big." What's the brat trying to imply?

"Like your mouth isn't big enough to fit." 

He pokes at Gulf's stomach. "Hey," he chides. "Quit telling the truth na. Okay, give me the big one." He opens his mouth for Gulf to feed him. 

The little shit laughs and skewers one of the large slices of cantaloupe instead. "You like it big?" 

Even now, when he’s being annoying as fuck, his nong is still cute. Mew laughs and leans toward it. "You're so cruel to your Phi." He takes the entire slice in one bite. Good to know his gag reflex hasn’t returned. Not that it matters. He cranes his neck to look at him. "Sweet, but not as sweet as Nong Stress Ball." He squeezes again at his tummy. 

Gulf is smiling. It's the big, sappy smile that he uses for behind the scenes and the vlog. Strange how genuine it looks. Is it real or just good acting?

"Be careful," Gulf warns him, "or you'll make me fall for you." 

Even though he knows it's a joke, and that there's no way Gulf will ever mean it, the phrase still makes him smile. If for nothing else, it's an inside joke between them, and that's special enough for him. 

Mew nods and makes some noise of agreement. "I suppose there are worse things than that." 

_____________________

"I think we should talk about when they first met," says Gulf. He tosses a pork rind into his mouth. "It will tell us more about how Tharn and Type would have acted toward each other, had Type not been homophobic." 

Mew laughs, looking into his phone screen. "They would have fucked like rabbits all semester." 

Gulf's face is frozen in a state of mild shock. Big, round Bambi eyes, mouth dropped open. 

"Yai Nong? Are you okay na?" 

Gulf blinks a few times and smiles. "Khrab. Um, just thinking about what you said." His eyes travel around the room, as they often do when he's flustered. 

"Do you think otherwise?" 

Gulf tilts his head to the side. He's so cute when he does that. "I want to think they would fall in love." He looks down and Mew can hear the pork rind bag crinkle. "They're so loving in later episodes, I think they would be- what am I trying to say?- the kind of couple that's so sweet to each other that it's gross."

Mew pauses to think about it. He always forgets about the later episodes, once they're an established couple. His focus is on getting there, on overcoming that first hurdle. He's not thinking about the endgame. But of course Gulf is. Gulf is always thinking about the love between them. Mew is always thinking about the conflict. 

Gulf looks like he's fighting a smile. "I think maybe they would cuddle and Type would listen to Tharn play the guitar. Corny shit like that." He shrugs, still unwilling to look up. 

Mew feels like a jerk. Of course Gulf would think about the fluff. Pee likes to joke that Mew is a romantic, but he suspects his co-star is a different kind of romantic than he is. 

"Tell me about when they first met," he prompts. He figures he can at least redirect Gulf to the original topic. 

His junior nods, looking back at the screen. "It's a short scene, but you can already see them showing their personalities. One of the first things Tharn does is offer his snacks to share."

"Caring."

"He also offers to help."

"Hero complex."

Gulf smiles. "And we know Type likes that. He's very willing to accept Tharn's assistance."

"Spoiled brat." But Mew means it fondly. He smiles at Gulf to show he means no harm. 

His co-star concedes. "He likes to be taken care of. So, they're already a good match." 

Mew tries to imagine a Type who isn't homophobic, and how he would respond to Tharn. "Without their conflict, do you think they still would have gotten together?" 

"Alai?" 

Mew ruffles his hair. "Before Type found out Tharn was gay, do you think things were headed toward romance? Tharn says he thinks he likes Type after he talks to the two gays. Does that mean he didn't like him until then? Or did he like him all along and chose that moment to confess?" 

He watches Gulf on the screen. He seems to be calculating things in his head. He looks troubled by the idea that under more normal circumstances, the great love story of TharnType wouldn't even exist. "So, you think the fighting is what leads to their love? That it wouldn't happen otherwise?"

"The fighting brings out their passion, right?" Mew waits for Gulf to nod. "It forces them to see each other… um, like raw and exposed. It builds intimacy between them." 

Gulf bites his lower lip and god, it's such a distraction. His co-star takes his time speaking. "So, they see the darkest parts of each other and realize they want to fill those parts with love?" 

"Khrab." Mew nod and smirks. "Also, this will kill the romance, but I think Tharn likes the idea of taming Type."

A hint of a smile dances across Gulf's lips. "I think Type likes it, too." His ears turn red as he nods. "He's used to getting his way, but he wants someone to put him in his place because he feels he doesn't have one." 

Now there's a concept Mew hadn't considered. Fuck, his co-star is good at this. "What do you mean, exactly?" 

"He's, you know, gay, right?" Gulf seems to stumble over the word gay. He never has trouble with it when talking about Tharn, but attributing it to Type seems to trip him up. "Don't gays usually feel out of place when they're young? They feel like they're... different from others?" 

Mew, himself, isn't gay, but as a bisexual he knows what Gulf means. He knows it all too well. He's felt it, just like others who are like him. The nagging sensation that something about you is different from your friends, but you can't quite place it. The suspicion that you see interactions between people of the same gender through a different lens, and you don't understand why other people can't see it. Wondering if there's something wrong with you, that maybe you're wired differently. Like you don't belong. _Like you don't have a place._

"Yai Nong?" 

"Khrab?"

"How do you know about that? The feeling of being different." 

Gulf doesn't hesitate, doesn't consider how his answer will make him sound. "Because I've felt it, too." He shrugs and eats another pork rind. "I don't know why, but I've felt it my whole life. Sometimes I think I'm like everyone else, but then… then I feel like I see something no one else does. Just little things, like how two guys will look at each other. Maybe I imagine it. Is that weird, Khun Phi?" 

Mew doesn't know how to answer that question. He's not the person to ask about sexual identity, not when he's too close to the situation. Not when he's so smitten with his co-star that his professionalism jumped out the window the minute he… he doesn't even know when it happened. 

"I think, Nong, that's for you to figure out." 

Gulf nods, somewhat sad looking. Mew wishes he could give him answers, but he can't stay unbiased in this matter. "So, you, uh, think Type likes being… tamed?" 

Gulf's face breaks out in a smile, showing off his retainer. He wonders what it would be like to kiss Gulf while he's wearing it. A dangerous thought, but one he can't keep from thinking.

His co-star nods. "Khrab. You see how he refers to himself to his parents. _I'll be a good little man_. He- he likes to push his limits, I think, because he wants someone to reign him in. He wants to- well, he wants to be a good boy. But, more importantly, he wants someone to be good _for_." 

Mew tries not to show any emotion. _He wants someone to be good for._ Gulf has no clue what he's doing to him, does he? 

_______________________

Another morning, another grumpy Gulf. Mew spots it as soon as he arrives on set. His junior stands in a corner on his phone, eyebrows drawn together like Type, hunched over. Grumpy Gulf is always smaller, more compact than smiley Gulf. He kicks absentmindedly at the air, then shifts his weight from one foot to the next. Mew chuckles to himself. Grumpy Yai Nong is one of his favorite parts of the morning. 

He approaches him and wraps his arms around his waist. Gulf is non responsive. He continues playing a game on his phone. 

"Morning, Yai Nong." Mew's voice is soft and cheery. 

Gulf purses his lips. "Morning na." 

Mew decides to give him some space. He releases his middle and moves away, but Gulf reaches for him and tugs him back. He makes an indignant noise and wraps Mew's arms around him again. Well, how can he say no to that? He squeezes and smiles at him. Gulf doesn't smile back. 

He sees P'Pee walk by and he calls his attention. He mimes putting food in his mouth and points at the snack table. _Yai Nong needs food in his belly, STAT._ Pee nods and brings back a banana. He looks at it and gives him a face. _Really na?_ Pee smirks. 

He peels the fruit and holds it out for his co-star. "Mhph." 

His junior is reluctant, but when he makes eye contact, his glare softens up. Gulf likes being taken care of. He leans down and takes a bite of the banana, and Mew pretends not to notice how gently Gulf's lips wrap around the fruit before he takes a bite. He chews like a hamster, cheeks puffed while his eyes are still in grumpy mode. The angriest hamster ever. Nalak nalak. 

Mew feeds him the rest of the banana, mindful of every bite his junior takes. Damn P'Pee. Gradually, his Nong seems to rise to the surface, and the haze of his grumpiness subsides. He turns to Mew and gives him a sleepy smile. 

"Sawadee-khrab, Khun Phi." 

Mew rubs his belly. "Sawadee-khrab, Yai Nong." 

____________________

They lounge on a bed in one of the prep rooms, waiting to get called to set. Mew's been on edge for the past two days. Gulf seems to have been, also. Today they're shooting the long kiss scene when Type and Tharn have sex for the first time. 

Gulf turns to him suddenly. "Phi? Is it normal to get aroused when doing love scenes?"

Mew's eyes squint and his mouth falls open. "Wa ngi na?" _What did you say?_

Gulf nods. "You know, when you're on top of me and kissing me like you do." Gulf looks so insistent, as if Mew's kissing is to blame. "I think I might lose myself to it. Is that normal?"

Mew doesn't have the words. No, it's not normal. Nothing about his Nong is ever normal, not his matter-of-fact answers, not his random declarative statements, or his perfectly audible grumblings. What does he mean he might lose himself to his kisses? 

He raises his eyebrows at his junior. "Are you really worried you'll get aroused?" 

Gulf considers it for a moment, head tilted to the side while he plays with his tiny ear. He looks at Mew and nods. "Yes." 

See? His matter-of-fact answer. Yes. He stares at Gulf, trying to figure out the mystery that is his beautiful co-star. "Uh… why?" 

Gulf rolls his eyes. "I already answered that, Phi." He rests his head against Mew's shoulder. "I might lose myself and get swept up as Type. Like when I step into the character. Type is falling in love with you, remember? When he feels it, I feel it." 

They look at each other for a moment, both caught off guard by Gulf's words. Mew looks away first. "You mean he's falling in love with Tharn."

"Yes."

Mew can't be part of this conversation any longer. Every second this drags on, he wants to dig into that inclination of Gulf's to be honest, and to explore all the miniscule details that keep hinting Gulf may be that specific kind of _different_ that Mew understands. 

In the end, he nods his head. "It's normal," he says. For all he knows, it might be. But he doesn't want his Nong to feel ashamed if his intense method acting should result in realistic responses. "Some actors can get swept up in emotions during scenes."

Technically, Mew isn't lying. He's guilty of getting caught up in crying scenes, having to dig deep for those visceral and vulnerable emotions, and it's hard for him to calm down afterwards. But love scenes have always been business for him. It's the biggest selling point for BL, and he owes the fans nothing but his absolute best. 

It's not because Mew is any kind of Casanova that makes love scenes his specialty. It's that he knows what it takes to make these scenes beautiful. He's mindful of the angles, the positions, and the expressions. He's slept with enough people to know that not everyone's sex faces are hot, and that fake sex faces should reflect the ideal. And like good sex, you have to think about your partner. Mew tries to make things as comfortable as possible for his co-stars- supporting their head or neck, shifting his weight so he doesn't crush them, and not blocking the light so their faces can be seen. Both people have to look good in a love scene, not just one. NC scenes are a true test of on-screen partnership. For all of these variables, plus the inevitable back pain, Mew has never had trouble with erections during love scenes. 

Gulf nods and re-adjusts himself on Mew's shoulder. "Then you won't be upset with me na?" 

Mew has to laugh. He laughs so hard he shakes Gulf and he ends up moving away from his shoulder. "Nong, did you just ask if I'd get upset with you for having an erection?" 

"Well, I'm not gonna have one if I know you'll be mad at me." The logic. 

Mew turns to look at him, his eyebrow arched to tease his junior. "What happened to getting lost in the feelings, hm?" 

Gulf shrugs and sulks against Mew's arm. "Yai Nong cares more about what Khun Phi thinks of him than Type cares about getting fucked." 

What is he supposed to do with his ridiculous, adorable, and unpredictable nong? The one who wants to know if it's okay for him to have an erection when they kiss. Of all the things Mew was worried about today… 

He reaches over and pets Gulf's hair, mindful of the product in it. "I promise I will never get mad at you for having a boner. Does that make you happy na?" 

He feels Gulf snuggle against him, still sulky, but coming out of it. "Khrab." 

______________________

Mew looks at Gulf one last time before action. His eyes are determined, as they often are before a scene. He catches Mew staring and gives him a small smile. He's never done that before, never broken character right before filming. At first, it looks like a reassuring smile, telling Mew everything will be fine. That their hard work will pay off. 

But Mew's become familiar with Gulf's expressions by now (it's the only way he can survive mornings with Grumpy Gulf), and he knows it's not a reassuring smile. It's a _reassured_ smile. He means to say, _I know you'll protect me_. Mew has no ego when it comes to this notion. He's not imagining the meaning of the smile- he knows for a fact that's what it means. His co-star has held this belief since day one, that Mew will protect him, and despite his initial irritation, Mew is determined to live up to that expectation. He smiles back to say, _I'll take care of you_. 

They talked a lot about this scene during rehearsal, on the phone, and even between filming other scenes. To call it pivotal is an understatement. They have to show several levels of character development in less than five minutes, and they have to do it beautifully. They called it The 5 Kiss Scene. Each kiss shows something different. 

The first is the small peck from Type. Well, it's supposed to be a small peck, except Gulf can't ever do a small kiss. Mew's told him before, one peck equals one second. But the son of a bitch has kept it at a consistent three seconds. This was their earliest point of contention. 

_"Khun Phi, Type wants to kiss him."_

_"Then why does he say no kissing?"_

_Gulf rolled his eyes. "I told you, remember? He likes being given a place. He wants Tharn to insist on kissing so that he has an excuse to kiss him. He wants it to look like it wasn't his idea."_

_Mew scratched his head. He supposed that it made sense. A sort of, 'well if I must…' He nodded at his co-star. "Even though the entire thing was his idea?"_

_"Khrab. It's what tells me that he really wanted to kiss him. He could have thanked Tharn so many different ways- do his chores, buy him food, replace stuff he broke. He didn't have to give him his virginity."_

_Mew startled at the word. Although he knew it was Type's first time, he never fully appreciated the significance of it in relation to their dynamic as enemies. Mew always knew it was supposed to be a direct contrast to Tharn's unpleasant experience with P'San. It was supposed to establish how much more suitable Tharn and Type are. It was supposed to show Tharn and Type growing closer and more comfortable around each other._

_But on a psychological level, for Type to even offer his virginity to Tharn already signaled an immense amount of trust. Mew had thought of it as Type's way to satisfy his curiosity, but now he realized it was Type opening up his heart, longing for someone to accept him._

_He looked at Gulf, who seemed satisfied that Mew was starting to get it. "Okay na. Three seconds it is."_

Gulf wraps his arms around Mew's neck and reaches up to kiss him. Five seconds, cheeky little shit. It'll probably get cut down in editing. 

"Happy now?" Type is almost apprehensive as he asks this. His eyes keep glancing down at Tharn's mouth, the place where he wants to connect again. This is why Tharn is so gentle with his response. His earlier ultimatum of not sleeping with someone who won't kiss him is now softened by his response, _it's not enough for me._ It's not Tharn trying to enforce another requirement. It's a confession. 

He leans down and kisses Type. He makes it as soft and slow as possible. An introduction of sorts. This is who Tharn can be for him, if he wants. This is who he wanted to be for him.

Mew's eyes are closed, but he knows Gulf's are open. He knows Type is watching Tharn with curious eyes, trying to experience as much of this moment as possible.

_"Eyes open at first," Gulf said, slapping the floor with his hand. "I want Type to watch Tharn when they kiss." He stretched his legs out on the blanket in the workshop room._

_Mew groaned. "Why na? That's weird. Not romantic."_

_Gulf shook his head. "It is for Type, though. He missed everything last time. His eyes were closed in the shower." Gulf tucked his legs back in and turned to face him. "He has no visual memory of kissing Tharn, or being in his arms, or seeing him… you know. He can argue with himself that a mouth is a mouth, but this time he wants to recognize that it's Tharn. And he wants to see if he can handle that."_

_Mew nodded, taking in his co-star's words. "So, maybe because he tells himself he will only sleep with Tharn once, he also gives himself that memory of seeing Tharn kiss him."_

_Gulf smiled at him. "Yes."_

_They called it the Memory Kiss._

Mew knows they're transitioning to the third kiss when he feels Gulf clutch his shirt. Type loves grabbing at Tharn's shirt, and Mew is reminded of the shower scene, when Gulf clutched at his heart. Is that why Type always grabs his shirt on the same side? Right above his heart? He clears his mind and readies himself for kiss 3. Here is where things get tricky. 

_"We have to be in sync," said Mew. "We have to show that once Type closes his eyes, that they fit perfectly together. Nothing off rhythm and no misalignment. We have to kiss as if we were always meant to kiss each other."_

_Gulf nodded, his eyes fiery with the challenge. "Shall we try?"_

Tharn can feel the change in Type's response. He feels his roommate grasp at his shirt, and he feels his lips start to return his advances. How different it feels to have Type kissing him back. It's new and it's wonderful, but it also feels familiar, like he's always kissed him. Or that he should have kissed him long ago. 

He feels something push inside his chest and it's not enough, will never be enough. He's greedy for more of Type and the way their lips move together. Greedy, yes, but so desperate to savor it. _Just one time_. If that's true, then Tharn will try to make it last. But god, his roommate is making it hard to behave. Type is kissing him back, and he can't help but quicken his pace, hungry as he is for this Type who responds to his touch, this Type whose lips curve so perfectly against his, and this Type who wants him. 

Tharn sits up, as much as his body aches for more. Especially when Type is kissing him back. But he has to make this last. He has to make it perfect for Type, to take care of his ridiculous crush. To do whatever it takes to show him that he can love him the way that he wants- the way he's shown that he wants to be loved. Tharn can do all of that, if Type would just let him. 

There are other reasons too. He avoids looking down at Type, because if he does, if he sees his beautiful eyes and his newly kissed lips, he's liable to spend the entire time just making out, never getting to the point of this evening. 

That is until he feels pressure against his leg, and he's reminded of everything that awaits them. Everything he wants to show him and do to him. He reaches for the ice. He wants the stimulating contrast between the coldness and the heat of Type's kiss. He wants to melt the ice, just as he wants to melt Type's heart. But he wants Type to give him permission to melt it, and for them to work together to warm it.

He brings the ice cube to his mouth and smiles at his lover- for that's what he is tonight. He smiles because Tharn also wants to be playful, to show Type that side of himself that he never got to reveal before this stupid war began. He wants Type to see who he is, and to know what it's like when Tharn makes love to him. Sex isn't always about being hot or sexy. It's about sharing yourself with someone, giving yourself to the other person. Offering your heart and hoping they accept it. And Tharn wants Type to know that he isn't always cross or teasing or serious. 

There's a part of him that just wants to play, wants to pass the ice back and forth between their mouths. Sex can be fun. He wants to see if Type is up for the game. The ice slides between Tharn's lips and into Type's waiting mouth. His lips are cool and tight as they kiss, and soon Tharn can feel the coldness poke against his lips, and he accepts the ice back from Type. 

Mew us losing himself. He can feel Gulf hard and hot against his thigh, and he can feel the pressure building in his boxers. It's never happened to him before, but here in Type's arms, in Gulf's arms, something feral growls inside of him. Their kisses are more ardent now. Type's arm is at his shoulder, pulling him close, seeking more contact. Type's mouth opens so beautifully as Tharn rocks against him, trying to create friction to meet that ache between their legs. Mew knows he's done for. 

He tries to pull back for the next part, but Type pulls down on his shoulder, bringing him back for more. Tharn can't say no, can't resist this Type who wants him as badly as he wants Type. For as long as Type wants him, Tharn is his.

They never discussed this in rehearsal, and for a moment, Mew wonders if it's Gulf who refuses to let him go. Is this what he meant about losing himself? Forgetting the blocking and the choreography, and instead doing what Gulf is notorious for doing- saying fuck you to the script and going off his feelings? 

He breaks away, noting how Type's arms seem to reach for him and wait for his return. Arms that want to be around him again. Tharn knows exactly what that feels like. He removes his shirt. Type had his test, and now Tharn has his. Kissing is one thing, but he needs to remind Type what's about to happen. He wants to see in Type's eyes that he knows Tharn is a man. Because that's the only way Tharn wants to be seen by him- not just a mouth providing pleasure, but as a man who wants to give Type his body and his heart. 

In rehearsal, Mew always brought Gulf's hand to his sternum. But after watching Gulf, he decides to bring Type's hand to his heart, to the place Gulf has been touching as he feels Type falling in love. It's not just a reminder that Tharn is a man, it's a promise of what he's willing to give him. 

Type's eyes are glued to him as Tharn guides his hand down his chest. He looks in his eyes for any sign of reluctance, of regret in his decision. But Type's hand stays on his skin first as nails, then as fingertips. Then again, Type's hands have never been shy with him, have they? 

Tharn entwines his fingers with Type's. Their hands fit so perfectly, just like their lips. His roommate watches him as he eases them back down, and Tharn all but melts as Type closes his eyes and tilts his head up, anticipating his kiss. 

_"Type's surrender," Gulf said. "The moment he offers himself completely to Tharn."_

It's true. Type's surrender is the fifth and final kiss. Here is where they truly become lovers. Gone are their walls and inhibitions. Gone are the pretenses and the boundaries, and instead is the admission of their yearning and their desire. 

Their lips are desperate for each other, almost clinging to one another. Tharn wants to feel more of Type, wants to explore every inch of his body. He moves down to his neck, and when Type gasps at his kiss, he can't help but rock harder against him. God, he wants to hear Type moan and whimper and cry out. He wants to make him shiver and tremble and quake. He wants to unravel him and render him completely undone. He wants this night to last forever. 

"Aaand cut na khrab."

Mew is painfully hard against Gulf. His shallow rocking against his co-star did little to alleviate the deep ache in his erection, and he lets out a small whimper as P'Tee calls cut. It only causes Gulf to clutch him tighter, make him slip his tongue into his mouth, and lift his hips in anticipation of his thrust. Mew doesn't think he can fight, and so he doesn't. How easy it is to yield to Gulf's wishes, to keep kissing him, keep stroking his thumb against their clasped hands. 

"Okay khrab, cut na khrab pom." 

Mew stops kissing. He opens his eyes to look at his co-star. Round and sheepish eyes meet his and they giggle like school boys. 

"Didn't take you long to get lost, Yai Nong…"

Gulf squirms underneath him. "Well, one of us has had more practice…"

Mew takes the opportunity to thrust roughly against him. Gulf inhales sharply, his eyes closing for a second before his angry eyebrows emerge. "Khun Phi… don't tease me na. It's already painful being this hard for so long." He leans his head to the side and whines. 

Mew laughs and rolls off of him. He takes a deep breath to collect himself. He can feel Tharn inside him, bereft and ravenous. Aching to be in Type's arms again. 

"Okay khrab," says P'Tee. "Reset. Let's run it again. Good energy, guys." 

Mew tries to mentally reset, to revert back to kiss 1. He goes through the sequence in his head again, to keep the order straight. They sit side by side, both uncomfortable with their erections that the crew are kind enough to ignore. He readies himself to go through it all over again.


	20. Lost

_"Don't be shy with me, P'Mew," he said. His fingers reached out to brush his arm. "I can see the way you look at me na khrab."_

_Mew looked away, knowing his smile would betray him. He knew he was being obvious, but it didn't make it any less embarrassing to be called out. "Can't I be shy with you?" Mew asked him._

_He laughed, and Mew loved the sound. "Wouldn't Phi rather make his nong shy instead?"_

_He nodded. Nodded and smiled and brought his face close. "Does Nong want me to make him shy?"_

_"Nong wants P'Mew to make him his."_

Mew wakes up with a smile on his face. It feels weird, thinking fondly about something that ought to be sad. But just because it ended badly, it doesn't mean that the memories are forever tainted. He remembers that day, when they confessed their feelings to each other. It was beautiful then, and it's beautiful now. He can appreciate that. 

He hugs himself in bed, clinging to the residual warmth of the memory. If Mew's being honest with himself, he misses being in a relationship. As much as he likes the giddiness of flirting and courting, he loves the freedom to express his love. He likes having a partner to dote on and care for. He likes the bond and connection of being with someone, of knowing that the love flows both ways. That he and his partner are building something together. He likes falling in love with the same person day after day. 

The warmth of the memory only lasts for so long before he's cold again. He reaches for the aircon remote and shuts it off. Lately, he's felt cold whenever he's lonely. He touches his heart, where he still feels incomplete. Nobody can help him make it whole again. That's the worst part. Nobody can help him in this matter. This is something he has to fix himself, and Mew's always been better at taking care of others. So much that it's become one of his flaws. 

_"I lost you somewhere, Phi."_

_"I'm right here. You're the one who left."_

_"No, I lost you because you gave yourself away. You gave too much of yourself, and now I don't know who you are anymore. I don't want someone who lives for me. I want someone to be beside me. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes and no. I can't think straight, love. Please, just tell me what I can do for you to come home na. Please, let's talk about this in person. Just come home na. Come home…"_

_"I hate when you beg, Mew. You used to be fiercer than this. You used to stand up for yourself. Where is your self worth, Mew?"_

_"I don't have anymore, goddamnit! You left me without saying anything! You let me come home to an empty house!... Baby, please. I don't have any strength left. I miss you…"_

_"I miss who you used to be. That's the Mew I fell in love with."_

He wipes at the tears running down his cheeks. He's spent so much time trying to find Tharn lately, he's forgotten to look for himself. If he really did give himself away, then the only way to be whole again is to find that lost Mew. To be someone worthy of loving- no, that's not it. He needs to be whole before he can love again. To be happy without relying on someone else. Maybe that was his mistake. There's only one person he's guaranteed to spend the rest of his life with, and it's himself. Perhaps that's the person he should take care of. 

_________________

Mew whistles as Gulf emerges from the dressing room. "Yai Nong is so fetching in his football attire."

Gulf smiles and looks smug. "Mm. Be careful na, Phi, or you'll make me fall for you." 

_________________

They sit in the shade of the courtyard, eating nam sod and cabbage. Gulf leans over and wipes the side of Mew's mouth. 

"Messy boy," he chides. "You kiss nicer than you eat." 

Mew laughs loudly, shaking his head at his ridiculous junior. "Oh, Yai Nong… just be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

_________________

"When is Khun Phi's drum practice?" 

"Hm?" Mew looks up from his drum pad. "19:00."

Gulf nods and walks away. 

_________________

Mew's drum stick flies over the snare and onto the floor. His teacher warned him that it would happen around this time, when a beginner drummer learns how to use their fingers to move the drum stick, instead of the wrist. He stands to chase after it when he sees someone pick it up. 

"Khun Phi, I thought you were better than this with your hands…" Gulf smirks and hands him the stick. 

"Come to spy na on me?" 

"Can't I watch hubby practice?" 

Mew looks at his drum instructor. P'Light nods and hands Gulf some sheet music. "Would you like to help hubby by singing along?" 

There's a moment of panic in Gulf's eyes before he shrugs and nods. "Khrab." He smiles at Mew and mouths, _sorry_. 

Gulf can't sing. Mew was aware his co-star wasn't perfect, but even this flaw makes him all the more endearing. Because Gulf knows he can't sing, and yet he does it anyway. His utter lack of self consciousness is something that Mew adores in him. 

But god, his singing is atrocious. 

"You sounded great, Khun Phi," Gulf says after practice. "Sorry you had to put up with my singing." 

Mew gives him an indulgent look. "For better or worse, mia." 

Gulf rolls his eyes and nudges him with his elbow. "Uh-huh. Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

___________________

"I'rr wahk mur feeh burfurh whee frirm," says Gulf. His mouth is full of those infernal pork rinds he loves so much. 

"Wa ngi na?" 

Gulf swallows and smiles. "For the ankle kissing scene, I'll wash my feet before we film." 

"You better." 

"Khrab," he holds up a finger heart. 

Mew shakes his head. "Mph. Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

"Already kissing my foot, how much more can you fall for me na?" 

Gulf has no idea.

_________________

Tharn holds Type in his arms, spooning him in the post-coital bliss. His bare skin is warm and delicious against his own. He could lay in bed for hours just savoring their skin to skin contact. He pulls Type close and kisses his neck. Surprisingly, Type lets him, even leans into it and cranes his neck to give him more access. He knows how much Type loves his neck being kissed. Tharn smells crisp and fruity shampoo, and he breathes deeply. He wants to fall asleep like this. 

"Okay khrab, cut na khrab." 

Mew nuzzles his nose into Gulf's hair. "Nong, what shampoo do you use?" 

His junior laughs and looks over his shoulder. "Why, are you going to copy me?" 

"Depends. Does it work on the ladies?" He pinches at the baby fat on Gulf's tummy. 

Gulf shrugs in response. "You'll have to ask my girlfriend." 

What did he say? His mind blanks for a second. Girlfriend? Mew doesn't know how to respond. He doesn't know how to express the surprise that he feels. The shock. They've been working together for months now and this is the first Mew has heard of any girlfriend. 

"Oh." He hopes he didn't sound disappointed. "Did you just get together?" 

"Hmm… three years na?" He chuckles. "So, no." 

Mew can't identify what he's feeling. Disappointed, of course. For no other reason than his stupid infatuation with Gulf. At the same time… relieved. It eliminates the possibility of things going too far. Now that Mew knows where the boundaries are, he doesn't have to worry about breaching them. Not that he would have, but there are days he fears he might. 

But not anymore. Why does he feel so empty all of a sudden? So cold? Gulf's flesh leaves him freezing and shivering. He sits up in the bed and looks to P'Tee. 

Their director gives a thumbs up. "Looks good na. Wrap na khrab." 

____________________

_"You don't have to feed me," he said, pouting and looking cute in his pajamas. "I'm a grown man."_

_"You're sick, you need to rest."_

_"I can lift a spoon."_

_"Don't you want me to feed you ja?" He lifted the bite of rice to his boyfriend's lips. "You used to like it."_

_He looked at Mew with rebellious eyes, arms crossed and lips pursed. "Fine." He opened his mouth for Mew to feed him._

____________________

It feels like a weight has been lifted. Mostly. Okay, not really. Just kind of. But not really. 

Mew sits in an armchair, eating a bit of toast for breakfast. He wants to clear his brain of all the stupid things that plague him. The haunting memories of his ex, the longing felt by Tharn, and the loneliness of being… well, alone. Most of all, the confusion of Gulf having a girlfriend. He just wants to forget it all. 

Grumpy Gulf makes his appearance. He nudges Mew's arms open and settles into his lap. Gulf is only like this in the morning, when he's grumpy. When he's smiley Gulf, he never initiates the touch. Mew wonders if Gulf is even aware of his initiations, or if he's under the impression that Mew makes all the advances. Sure, his junior will join him in a bed or a couch and lean on him, but when it comes to back hugs and lap sitting, Gulf only makes the first move when he's half asleep and grumpy. 

Mew feels detached. Gulf is snuggled in his lap, and ordinarily, he'd be giddy about it. But with the sudden knowledge of Gulf's relationship, Mew finds that it feels no different than Mild sitting in his lap. Mew can be cold at times. He can compartmentalize quite well when he wants to or when he has the strength to. He couldn't do it during his break-up, but he can do it now. He doesn't feel anything with Gulf in his arms. And that's probably how it should be. 

______________________

_"Hmm, you lost na, P'Mew. You know what that means."_

_He looked up from the video game on his phone. "You'll console me with your kisses?"_

_His lover snatched the phone from his hands. "It means you get punished."_

_Mew knew that look in his eyes. Already he was pushing back from the table as his lover climbed on top of it, advancing toward him on his hands and knees._

_Mew felt that familiar rise in his stomach, the heat spreading throughout his body and the need slowly increasing. He watched his lover sit on the edge of the table, beckoning him with the crook of his finger. He loved obeying him, loved yielding to his every desire. Mew slid his chair between his legs, running his hands up his lover's thighs._

_"P'Mew likes to touch…"_

_"Yes."_

_His lover slid down from the table and straddled his lap. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on Mew's shirt. "What does P'Mew like about touching me?" He dipped down and kissed his neck, biting softly at the flesh and swiping his tongue over the marks._

_Mew hissed and moaned, bringing his hands to his lover's waist, slipping his fingers underneath his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and each fingertip felt scorched by his lover's heat._

_"Uh-uh." He slapped at his hand. "Answer my question, Mew."_

_He shut his eyes and breathed heavily. It drove him crazy whenever he dropped the honorific, when he asserted himself as his equal. The arrogance of it always went straight to his cock, and his lover knew that all too well. He knew that Mew loved it whenever he took charge like this, using that sharp tone of voice that cut into him like a whip._

_"I like…" he cried out as his lover bit his neck again, harder this time. "I like how soft your skin is."_

_He held Mew's chin with his fingertip, turning his head for a kiss. His kisses were like fire- burning and intense and consuming. He moaned against his mouth, raising his hips to feel his arousal. His erection rubbed against the rough fabric of his jeans._

_He felt teeth sink into his lip. "Bad," his lover whispered. He peeled back Mew's shirt, down to his arms._

_Mew wanted to touch him, to grab and scratch at his scalding flesh, to have it burn him a million times over. Instead, he felt his lover knot the cuffs of his shirt together, trapping his arms in the sleeves. Fuck._

_"Baby…" he pleaded with his eyes, squirming beneath him. His jeans were so tight, so restraining. He was painfully hard now and desperate for satisfaction._

_His lover held his gaze, fiery and intense. "Answer my question, Mew."_

_He let the command wash over him, sending shivers down his spine. He loved being told what to do. "I like feeling you tremble when I touch you," he breathed. "I like gripping your hips while I fuck you hard."_

_His lover moaned and kissed him again. His tongue was hot and insistent. Mew went dizzy, delirious with his lover's attention. Just one touch..._

_"I love being inside you," he whispered._

_"Patience."_

_His lover got up and sat back at the edge of the table. He undid his own shirt buttons, eyes fixed on Mew. His gaze was always intense, always powerful, always seering straight into Mew's being, setting him on fire._

_"Does Phi like to watch?" He traced a finger from his neck down to his waist._

_"...yes." God yes._

_His lover undid his jeans as Mew watched, pulling down his zipper and taking himself in his hand. He stroked himself, breath hitching in his chest._

_Mew was panting now. He struggled against his bonds. He wanted to touch so badly. He wanted to be the one giving that pleasure. His lover moaned, biting his lip, using his thumb to spread the bead of precum over his head. Mew watched the glistening wetness slick over his skin and he groaned. The ache in his pants became unbearable._

_"Baby… wanna touch you…" he fought to free his arms._

_His lover steadied him with a foot to his thigh. "Behave, Mew, or I'll blindfold you, and all you'll get to do is listen."_

_Mew stilled and bit down on his lip. He watched as his lover sped up his pace, shallow breaths giving way to moans. His other hand roamed his neck and his chest, the places where Mew loved to kiss and bite. It was torturous to watch and not get to touch, but at the same time it was so, so good. He'd never seen his lover like this before. So exposed, so uninhibited, so commanding. Mew decided that whenever he got free, he would fuck him til morning._

_"Tell me, Mew, what would you do if you could touch me?"_

_He licked his lips. God, what wouldn't he do? "I'd prep you nice and slow, the way you like it. One finger at a time, slick with lube, until you're aching for me to get inside you."_

_His lover hummed, throwing his head back as his pace quickened. He flicked his wrist and whimpered. The sight of it made Mew's cock twitch in his jeans, made his blood pump and his mouth water._

_"More," said his lover. "Tell me more."_

_"I'd spread you open so good, baby." Mew's voice was low and rough. "You know you love my fingers."_

_His lover's eyes were shut now, his hand stroking himself like crazy. He pinched at his nipples, his moans muffled by the biting of his lip._

_*Let me hear you, baby."_

_"Mmph… P'Mew…"_

_It was so much hotter now to hear the honorific, to hear his lover submit to him once more._

_"What is it, baby?"_

_"Keep talking, P'Mew…" his voice came out in broken gasps. "So close, Phi…"_

_Mew was half lost, himself. He took in the sight of his lover pleasuring himself for him to watch. His eyes were greedy for more. "I'd bend you over this table. Tease your little hole with the tip of my cock until you begged."_

_"Mmm… and then?"_

_"And then I'd slide into you, so slowly that it almost kills you."_

_His lover gasped and whined. "P'Mew…"_

_"I'd rock my hips to loosen you up. You like that, don't you baby?"_

_"Yes…"_

_"Yes what?"_

_His lover opened his eyes, gaze aflame. "Yes, sir."_

_He could feel the tug and surge in his stomach. He needed to get free and reclaim what was his. "I'd fuck you so hard, baby. I'd have you bent over that table with your hands flat on the surface, making you cry out while you're wrapped so tightly around my cock. I'd give it to you just how you like it until you came for me."_

_"P'Mew…"_

_"You're so pretty when you come, baby. Let me see you."_

_His strokes were frantic and desperate. He closed his eyes again, lips parted, breathing heavily as he drove himself to the edge. With a strangled cry, he shook and threw his head back, calling Mew's name as he climaxed._

_Mew's eyes devoured the scene before him. He'd never been more aroused in his life, and now he was far beyond his patience. He needed to be inside his lover. He struggled again at his tied sleeves._

_His boyfriend looked down at him, wiping away at the cum on his chest. "Hmm… so that's what you'd do?" He stood up from the table and zipped up his jeans. "If you can get out of that chair, I'd like to see you try…" And he walked away._

___________________

"Khun Phi, you lost," says Gulf through the headset. "You know what that means…"

Mew looks down at the video game on his phone. His character lies on the ground, the letters K.O. flashing on the screen. 

"Alai wa?" 

Gulf laughs. "Hey, relax na Phi. You just owe me a soda." 

"Oh." Mew pushes away at his memories. It was another life ago. "Khrab."

____________________

"Thiiiiiiiilaaaaaaak," calls Mild. He hooks an arm around Mew's neck. "Is my darling okay na? Where's your wifey?"

Mew nods his head in Gulf's direction. He's across the room, sitting alone on a bench. 

"Ah, one of those days." Mild sighs. "Shall I send out the alert? Or will your distance be enough to warn everybody?" 

A staff member walks by and does a double take. "Ah, sorry na. I thought you were Yai Nong!" He looks around and spots Gulf. "Oh, there he- ah. Okay na. Sorry na khrab. Hope you two make up soon. Susu na!" He waves and walks away. 

Mild laughs, pulling his senior in for a forehead kiss. "You silly love birds! Ay, what am I going to do with you two?" 

Mew shakes his head. He re-adjusts Mild into a back hug, resting his chin on his shoulder. "It's nothing. Better na this way." 

"Uh huh. Who's mad at whom?" 

"I don't even know anymore." 

"So, him probably."

Mew shuts his eyes and squeezes his friend. He needs the hug, needs to feel a connection to someone. "Doesn't matter." 

"I give it an hour before you're all over each other again." 

"I'll take that bet." 

"Hoy!" Mild smacks his arm. "You're not supposed to bet against your own happiness!" 

"I'm not." He holds out his hand for a handshake. "50 baht says we're still fighting by the end of the day. I won't do anything different." 

Mild untangles himself from Mew's arms. He pulls out his wallet and slaps 60 baht into Mew's palm. 

"Here, take it. Just go make up with him." He shoves him toward Gulf. "I swear. Are you 12 today?" 

Mew takes the money and walks toward Gulf. They don't make eye contact. So much the better. He keeps walking until he finds P'Pee. 

"Do me a favor, na?" He hands Pee the cash. "I forgot I owe Mild some money. Can you give it to him for me?" 

Pee rolls his eyes. "I hope you included interest." He pats his arms and walks off. 

Mew finds an armchair to sleep in until he's called to set.


	21. Puifai

"I'm going to ask Puifai to be my girlfriend." 

Silence. Tharn looks at his roommate. How easy it is to sustain eye contact these days, after everything they've been through. He thought that meant something, thought it was a sign that they had something between them. He didn't realize that something was a girl. 

He can't speak. If he does, he's liable to confess how much his heart is breaking. _I could fall in love with you, Type_. Hell, he's practically there already. Didn't it seem like things were happening between them? Didn't it seem that Type was opening up to him? That he might care for him? 

He remembers when they made up, when Type covered his bed in Sprite cans and kissed him. When he confessed to Type, _I can't live without you,_ he meant it, damnit. Tharn doesn't say these things carelessly. When Type said they were lovers (casual, but still). When Tharn kissed his foot and Type smiled. No friends kiss like that. 

Lovers do. But Tharn supposes casual lovers are meant to be disposable. Something easily cast aside when a pretty girl comes along. At least Type isn't leaving him for another guy. That would probably be more painful.

Can Type see in his eyes how his heart is breaking? "Good luck," he tells him. "And let me know how it goes, so I will know how to act around you." Because he hasn't known what to do since that evening Type punched him and spent the night next door. Things went so badly so quickly. 

Type says nothing. That's good. Tharn doesn't think he can take anything else tonight. He feels heavy as he leaves the bed. He remembers when they were pushed together, that first night when Tharn had hoped that they might become… well, it doesn't matter now. 

Maybe it's better this way. Type still maintains that he's straight, anyway. He can live a perfectly normal life, dating a girl, having a roommate who sleeps in his own bed. He'll be happier. And that's really what Tharn wants- for Type to be happy. He's always wanted to help him, and if that means stepping aside, then that's what he'll do. 

"Oh. Don't forget to buy her a present. Or you'll get dumped before she's even your girlfriend." He wants to show he's not mad. Just heartbroken, but he can never stay mad at him. Just hurt. He doesn't want to show that he's hurt, because then he's the clingy, pathetic one. He wants Type to know he's hurt without having to make it apparent. He should know it because he should know how Tharn feels about him, and damnit he should know because he feels the same way. He has to. Everything Type has done hints that he feels the same way. No friends kiss like that. 

He crawls into his bed, curled up to nurse the shattered parts of his heart, the heart he wanted to give to Type. The heart he's already given to him. 

__________________

Nong Eye is here this week for episodes 5 and 6. He remembers her from workshop, but he doesn't remember her being this cute. Mew hasn't looked at a woman like this in a while. At least two years, if not longer. Mew likes her chubby cheeks and her big, round eyes. He can see why Type is enamored with Puifai. 

She smiles when she sees him. She blushes, too. Her smile is playful and sweet, like she has a secret, one that she'd tell you if you played your cards right. And Mew is always good at this game. 

He approaches her after the table reading for this episode. "We meet again, homewrecker." 

She laughs freely and without inhibition. He liked that about her last time, too. "Can I help it if there was trouble in paradise?" 

Mew raises an eyebrow. She's quick. "Maybe my wifey just needed to be reminded of how good he has it." 

"Or maybe he remembers how good it was before you." 

Fuck, she's good. He shrugs and gives her a smug grin. "He came back to me, didn't he?" 

She nods appreciatively. "Kha… but not all men can handle me." 

Well, shia. Who the fuck is this girl, and where has she been all his life? "Are you speaking as Puifai or as yourself?" 

She smiles that hidden secret smile as she looks at him from under her eyelashes. "Kha." 

______________________

_Mew smoothed the duvet to make it flat and straight. He did this every morning he was able to, if his lover wasn't lazy and still asleep by the time he left. Mew was always very particular about his bed. And well, everything. Neat freak wasn't how he would describe himself, though it's how others would. Occasional clutter was fine, after all, as long as everything was clean._

_Except for his bed. That had to be immaculate._

_He crouched down to eye the flatness of the duvet, tugging it to even it out and pull out the wrinkles. He heard a chuckle from the doorway._

_"What?"_

_His lover leaned against the frame and smiled. "Do you know?"_

_He rolled his eyes. "That I'm a neat freak? Yes, I know."_

_"Not that." He walked over to Mew and touched his cheek. "Do you know that I love you?"_

_Mew blushed. It wasn't often that his lover said such things. He preferred to save it for times when he couldn't help but say it, to keep it special._

_Mew grabbed him and tossed him into the bed, wrinkles be damned. He kissed him softly and tenderly, savoring this moment, when his lover couldn't help but tell him he loved him._

___________________

Gulf

Coming to set today?

Mew

Off today. Classes

Gulf

Bleh. Come afterwards na khrab. 

Mew

Someone's birthday?

I'll come if there's cake.

Gulf

No. At least you're eating again. No cake. Something sweeter. Or someone.

Mew

Aw, is it P'Mame? Tell her I miss her.

Gulf

Ugh. You pain in the ass. 

Mew

Not true. Tharn uses lots of lube.

Gulf

No, you're a pain in the ass, not Tharn! Stubborn. It's me. I'm sweeter than cake. 

Mew

Gulf, what kind of shitty cake have you eaten? No wonder you don't like sweets.

Gulf

I hate you na khrab.

Eye waves at him when he arrives on set. "Sawadee-kha, P'Mew." She gives him a knowing smile. "P'Pee said you would be here, even though you're off today."

Damnit, Pee. He sighs and smiles at her. "And why is that khrab?" 

She places her hands behind her back and twists from side to side in a playful manner. Cute. "Hmm… because Nong Gulf looked lonely na kha." She winks at him. 

Fuck, does everyone know? Fucking Puifai knows he's weark for Gulf? Shia. He shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have indulged his unhealthy addiction to being around his co-star. His co-star who has a girlfriend. He has to laugh at the situation, otherwise he’ll want to scream. "Why do you think I would care about that?" 

She gives him a look that says, _really_? "A woman knows," she tells him. 

Mew grabs a banana from the snack table and follows her to the prep room where Gulf is shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He does that when he's bored or irritated. They tend to be the same thing for him anyway. Did he really miss him that much? He shouldn’t let that thought go to his head. 

"Aw, hubby is here na!" P'Mame says to Gulf. 

He turns and raises an eyebrow at Mew. "Hmph. Didn't Khun Phi get my message? There's no cake here."

Fucking brat. He gives him an indulgent smile and wraps his arms around him while he peels his banana. He supposes Gulf has a reason to sulk and feel lonely. They almost never spend a day apart. "I heard there was something sweeter, though."

The staff members make _aaaaayyyy_ and _ooooyyy_ noises. Gulf's cute little mouth is pursed to stop him from smiling. "Is that so?" 

Mew nods and brings his face close to his junior's. "Nong Eye." 

Gulf makes a surprised face that turns into laughter. He shakes his head at the staff members as if to ask, _can you believe this asshole?_ and points sternly at Mew. "Khun Phi is a bad man." 

Mew smiles and takes a bite of his banana. At least he has some restraint. 

P'Mame pulls out her phone and looks at Eye. "Puifai steals the affection of Type, and Eye steals the affection of P'Mew." 

Eye laughs and shakes her head. "P'Mew didn't come here to see me. Look." She points to them standing close to each other. 

P'Mame turns the camera toward him. "Why did you come here, P'Mew? You're not scheduled today." 

"I came to cheer up Gulf," he says, putting his arm around him. 

Gulf's face turns comical and exaggerated. A sort of shocked indignance. "But I've already finished when you got here." His eyes are big and round and cute. "You call that cheering me up?"

They laugh and turn back to Eye. "Puifai, come on." 

She clings to one of the staff members and laughs. "No, I can't stand beside them!" She points at them again. 

Mew walks into view of the camera. "So, let's change it to Tharn-Puifai instead." Another outburst of _aaaaayy_. Mew does love to tease.

The camera jumps to Gulf. His smile is thin. "If you changed to Tharn-Puifai, I would be the 3rd person." 

Is Mew imagining things, or does Gulf look jealous? He walks back to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. His face definitely shows signs of jealousy, as far as Mew can tell. He's never seen jealous Gulf, never had a reason. He's seen proto-jealous Type in workshop, but it wasn't the final product. That won't come until later episodes. Mew can only go off what he knows so far of Gulf's expressions, but he'd bet money on jealousy. His Yai Nong does like to feel special. 

At some point he finds himself alone with Eye. She gives him that secret smile. "Yai Nong missed his Khun Phi." 

He sighs and shakes his head. "Yes, he missed the old man who indulges his brattiness." 

"Aw, P'Mew kha…" she touches his arm. "Don't pretend to be an adult. You're too playful, like a little boy." 

He turns to her and wags his finger. "You should show more respect for your elders, young lady." 

He can't keep a straight face, though. He usually can when he's playing stern, but something about Eye makes him want to smile and laugh all the time. Like being around an old schoolmate. He hardly knows her, but something in his broken little heart wants to open up and confide in her, like an old friend. Silly, he knows. She must have one of those personalities that make people feel comfortable and want to tell her their life stories. 

Eye wraps her tiny hand around his finger. "Mai, P'Mew." She stands on her toes to get closer to him. "And he doesn't think of you as an old, indulgent man. He is a brat, though, because he thinks of himself as your equal, more than he did at workshop." 

"Don't I know it."

She tilts her head to the side. "But he's right, isn't he na kha?" Now she's the one pointing at him. "A woman always knows, P'Mew." She releases his finger and lowers down from her toes. She looks so small, yet so feisty. He likes that about her.

He turns away, because he has a suspicion she can read his face. "What are you trying to get at, homewrecker?" 

"P'Mew is wicked. I'm saying…" she turns him around to face her again. "You two have made a romantic of me, and I want to help." 

He straightens up and shuts his eyes. Just what he needs, another shipper. He covers his face with his hand and laughs again, because he really will scream at this point. 

"Nong Eye khrab…" 

"Kha?"

"You're wasting your time. We're just doing our jobs. It's fan service, Nong." If anyone knows that, it's him. Maybe he'll take a shower as soon as he gets home so he can scream all he wants. 

Eye stomps her foot. "Mai! I'm not the shipping type, P'Mew. I know how this business works. And besides, why would Nong Gulf sulk all day without you if it was fan service? There weren't any cameras on him behind the scenes." 

Mew doesn't want to hear any more of this. He doesn't need to be convinced of having feelings for Gulf. He needs the opposite. "Nong Eye…" he leans down to whisper in her ear. "I'm not admitting to anything. But you should know Nong Gulf has a girlfriend. I don't know if it's supposed to be a secret." 

Eye seems oddly unperturbed by this news. She blinks a few times. "It must be an old relationship," she thinks out loud. "And probably- oh, P'Mew…" her eyes glaze over. 

"Alai na?" 

She seems to be looking through him. "You have to be there for him, P'Mew." 

"What do you mean?" 

She finally looks in his eyes. The natural mirth and mystery are gone, and she looks as if she's pleading. "When they break up. You have to be there for him. He'll be sad, but not for long if you're there for him." She touches his arm again. "Much shorter if you're there for him." 

He shakes his head at her. "Nong, you shouldn't wish this upon their relationship. It's not nice."

"I'm not," she says, squeezing his arm. "It's already happening." 

Alai wa? She really must be the kind of person others open up to. Mew feels a sting of jealousy at the idea of Gulf telling her about his relationship after a few days when it took him months to tell him. 

"Did he say anything to you?" 

She shakes her head. "Nong Gulf was very quiet. He smiled and laughed a little around me- you know, because I'm funny and charming naja- but otherwise he was sad. Until you showed up." Her smile turns to concern. "No, I can… I can tell the breakup is already happening. It has for a while." 

"How do you know?"

She gives him a look that says, _come on na_. " My grandmother. She had the gift of clairvoyance. I have it a little. It's fuzzy, but a woman knows." She winks at him. 

Mew wants to roll his eyes, but he knows better than that. Fortune telling isn't something to be taken lightly in their culture, so if Eye is claiming to have the gift, he won't question it. "Kha, I'll be there for him."

Eye looks out to the distance and out of nowhere, she starts laughing. She giggles into her hands as if she's just discovered a secret. She stands on her toes again. "Don't think of me as a gossip, okay na? What I'm going to tell you is to help you be there for Nong Gulf and support him the way he needs it."

"Khrab…" Mew has absolutely no idea what's happening now. 

"Nong Gulf and his girlfriend love each other very much… but it's a different kind of love." She raises her eyebrows as if she's trying to tell him something more, but Mew doesn't understand. "After the breakup, he'll be sad, but he won't be heartbroken. I think that's all I should say." She steps away and surveys his face. 

There’s something heavy in his chest. His mind is fabricating a million different interpretations of Eye's words. At the top of his list is the fantasy of every unrequited gay love story: what if she's a beard? A fake girlfriend so he can play straight? But Mew knows he's not that lucky. It's too obvious. Too good to be true. He really didn't need one more thing to worry about. 

"Nong, why don't you and I just date na?" He teases. "Phi would be good to you." And God knows it would be so much easier. 

She laughs and slaps his arm. "Don't tempt me, P'Mew! You have no idea how handsome you are!" She squints at him. "Or maybe you do." 

He squints back at her and they laugh. He sighs and looks at her fondly. "You know I like women, right?" If he weren't crazy for Gulf (because he might as well admit to it, since everyone knows), he could have fallen for a girl like Eye. 

She nods and giggles. "Stop using me as a shield, P'Mew." She pushes at his shoulder. "I won't be a real homewrecker just because you're afraid." 

"Afraid?" 

"Kha!" She looks at him with big, round eyes that remind him of Gulf. "It's going to be tough, Phi. I won't lie. And you'll need to make yourself stronger na kha. In here." She pokes at his heart. 

He's reminded of Type reaching for Tharn's heart. He can almost feel Gulf's hands grabbing at his chest, trying to reach it. How much can Eye see with her gift? 

"Alright, you're freaking me out." He laughs and pushes her toward the door. "Let's get some ice cream and we can talk about fun things. Do you like K-pop?" 

She giggles as he steers her through the hallway by her shoulders. "You won't give up on him, right?" 

"Do you like strawberry flavor? Coconut? Mango? My treat."

"And you'll make your heart strong again?" 

"Chocolate sauce? Caramel? Whipped cream?" 

"Okay, I give up. I want taro flavor."

"Good girl."

__________________

Mew looks at the text on his phone. It's from Eye. Again. He smiles and shakes his head. She's started calling herself his life coach-naja. 

Eye

How's the heart this morning? 

Mew

Sleepy

Eye

How long did Phi sleep last night? Don't lie! A woman knows. 

Mew

Then how come you don't know how many hours na khrab??? Hmm??? 

Eye

Tell me or I'll tell Nong Gulf you're not sleeping enough

Mew

Snitches get stitches

Eye

You don't scare me 💪🏻

___________________

Eye

Nong Gulf has such pretty eyes! 🥺😍

Mew

New phone who dis?

Eye

So round and lovely, like a deer

Mew

This LINE account is out of service

Eye

We shot the restaurant scene. He was so gentle when he caressed my cheek and brushed my hair back. Said he learned that from you 🤭

Mew

Lies. P'Tee taught him

Eye

Oh, I thought this account was out of service na? 

Mew

It can be

Eye

Let's get tempura! I'll tell you all about my date with Type.

_________________

Eye orders the largest platter. Mew envies her appetite. His comes and goes these days. Sometimes he's ravenous, other times he forgets to eat. 

"Get whatever you want, Phi," she tells him. "On me this time."

"I can't let you do that." 

She slaps his hand with the menu. "Save your chivalry na. This isn't a date, so let me treat." 

"Yes, but you're younger," he insists. "I should take care of my juniors." 

Eye shakes her head and pushes the menu at him. "If I let you pay, will you pick whatever you want? You need to be strong, Phi." 

"Fine." He calls over the waiter and orders the same as Eye. 

They don't actually talk about Puifai's date with Type. She tells him about her classes, her plans for graduation in November, the traveling she wants to do. He tells her about Chopper, his graduate studies, and the books he wants to read once he gets the time. 

Mew looks at her across the table. Something feels different from how he usually feels. Eye catches him staring and laughs. "You haven't noticed yet?" She asks. 

"Alai?" 

She sighs and pats his hand. "You spent the last two hours not worrying about Gulf. Feels good, right?" 

Huh. Mew looks down and shakes his head to clear his mind. It kind of does feel good. "Khrab." He gives her a look. "You never intended to talk about him tonight, did you?" 

"Nope." She gestures with her chopsticks. "I talked about me, and I hoped you would talk about…"

"Me." 

She nods and smiles. "You have to focus on yourself to make your heart strong again, P'Mew."

The check comes, and the waiter brings it to Eye. Her card is already on the tray. She grins at him from under her eyelashes. "I gave them my card to pay when you went to the bathroom."

Mew will have to be careful around his sneaky nong.

__________________

Eye

Help na, Phi? 

Mew

What's wrong?

Eye

My friends want to do a dance number for our friend's birthday

Mew

You want song recommendations?

Eye

Not exactly…

Mew snaps his fingers to the beat. "One and two and three and…"

Eye, Milk, and Calm strike their poses and begin their steps. Mew walks around as they dance, watching their feet and keeping the beat by snapping. 

"Make 'em whistle like a missile. Bomb, bomb." He sings along with the music. He doesn't know a lot of Korean, but he knows most of the lyrics. It's BlackPink, after all. Of course he knows the words. "넌 너무 아름다워 널 잊을 수가 없어 그 눈빛이 아직 나를 이렇게 설레게 해 boom boom."

He does a few of the moves with them. He can't help it. What's the point in choreographing when you can't enjoy the dance? 

Calm stumbles and throws the other girls off sync. "Ay! Sorry na!" 

Mew pauses the music. "Are you okay, Nong?" 

She blushes and nods vigorously. "Kha!" She looks embarrassed. "I'm just too uncoordinated na kha." 

"Hm…" Mew hums the part of the song, doing some half-hearted steps. "Okay na, try this." He does a simpler move as he sings the part. It takes Calm a few tries, but she jumps and hugs him when she finally manages it. 

"Okay, ladies, try it again?" 

At the end of practice, Nong Calm comes up to him. "P'Mew kha? Will you come eat with us?" 

"Hm?" He looks over at Eye, who nods at him. 

"Kha! Please join us! That is, if Phi isn't too busy or tired." 

Mew thinks about the past two hours. It's been nice having a task that had nothing to do with himself. Something he could do for other people, that didn't result in more stress and worry and plaguing thoughts about his beautiful co-star with pretty Bambi eyes. He means Gulf, of course, since Eye could just as easily be described the same way. Beautiful, feisty, and cheeky. Mew must have a type. 

He smiles at Calm. "Dai khrab." _I can_. 

She and Milk squeal together and smile at him.

______________________

"No, no!" Shouts Eye. "It's real! I watched it on YouTube!"

"And that makes it real?" Milk shakes her head at Calm. 

Eye slaps the table. "It's real! You can shrink a coin! It's simple Faraday's law of induction na kha." She looks pleased with herself.

Mew pauses between bites. Is she serious? He's heard something like this in his physics class, but nothing more than side chatter. 

Eye fishes in her purse for a pen and draws on her paper napkin. "Watch na, okay? I'm telling you, it's real." She sketches a coin and a coil surrounding it. "You run the current through the coil, of course, to produce a magnetic field." 

Milk holds up her hand. "Wait, wait- what's the magnetic field density?" 

Eye gives her a look. "Alai wa? You think I know off the top of my head?" She looks at Mew as if to say, _am I a professor or something_? "Probably 18 Tesla or something like that." 

Milk gives Calm a look. "Hmm. You'd need a current of…" 

"50,000 amps," says Mew. He's been trying to calculate it himself. 

"Kha. So, the coin is picking up currents…" Eye continues. "And you know, Loretz Force.." she draws arrows around the coil. 

Mew's eyes follow her sketch. "Wait!" He looks at all three of them. "The coil explodes?" 

Calm looks down at the drawing. "Oh my god, it will!" 

"Top of the class," says Eye, smiling at him. "The coin implodes, and that's how it shrinks." 

Mew is shook. This is, by far, the coolest thing he's heard about all week. "Physics wasn't this fun when I did my bachelor's degree." 

Eye preens and poses with Calm and Milk. "That's because we're in the department of electrical engineering, while you were industrial engineering."

Mew shakes his head. "You'll have to send me that YouTube video." 

She nods. "Okay, but it's in English. Hope you're skilled enough, P'Mew…" 

Cheeky.

___________________

Mew discovers that his English isn't as good as he thought. No matter. The video was still really cool. He stretches out on his couch, thinking about the past few days and how different things have felt. It's like he's been on a mini vacation from himself, his problems… and from Gulf. With all the Puifai scenes, they haven't been shooting together as often. He can't even remember the last time he spoke to Gulf. 

It feels good. Eye was right- he has to focus on himself to make his heart strong again. Even if he still harbors an idiotic fantasy in which he stands a snowball's chance in Bangkok with Gulf, he'd be no good to him with his mangled, tired old heart. It's not so bad having a life coach. 

__________________

Mew gets a text from Eye. It's a selfie with her in a pretty white dress, hair flowing with a braid down the side. She looks smug and taunting

Eye

'bout to steal your man #HBDPuifai

Mew

Homewrecker

Eye

Come and claim him if you dare

Mew doesn't know why he shows up to the set. He's an hour early, and he's not even filming in this location. But he's there. Come to claim his man, or whatever. He tells himself he's there to see Eye. 

P'Mame wastes no time in whipping out her phone. She tells Mew to stand next to Eye and Gulf. She wants them on either side of her for her IG story. 

"Puifai, between Type and Tharn, who do you prefer na?"

Eye has zero shame. She sidles up to Mew and leans against him. Gulf shifts back and forth on his feet. Bored or irritated? 

__________________

"P'Mew khrab?" 

"Hm?" 

He and Gulf lean against the railing outside the set. It's raining, and the coolness of the wind and water was too tempting not to step outside. 

"It's been weird not seeing you as often." 

Mew turns to look at him. He hasn't thought about what this past week must have been like for Gulf. Mew's had plenty of distraction with Eye, but he has no idea what his co-star's been up to. He gets the feeling that Gulf spent most of this week by himself. 

Mew raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you missed me?" 

Gulf gives him a look. "Khun Phi wishes." He sighs and kicks at the air. "Can I ask you advice, P'Mew?" 

"Of course." Mew feels his chest tighten up. He thinks he knows where this is going. Is this what Eye warned him about?

Gulf takes a deep breath. He stares out at the rain, his profile sharp against the building's exterior. He's so beautiful in the fading light. Mew wants to remember the way he looks right now. He hasn't allowed himself to really look at Gulf lately. Not the way he used to. But out here, just the two of them, Mew gives in and lets himself admire all the things he's tried to forget. The roundness of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the pointed shape of his pouty lips, and the smooth expanse of his neck that he loves to kiss, even when it's not in the script. 

"P'Mew, I think my girlfriend and I are going to break up." 


	22. Mystery

"P'Mew, I think my girlfriend and I are going to break up."

Mew looks at his junior. He looks so much shorter, smaller. His face is open and bare- every trace of worry and fear clearly shown for Mew to see. Gulf isn't hiding in this moment. 

"I'm sorry," says Mew. "Tell me how I can help." 

Gulf breaks the eye contact and looks down at his feet. "Poom and I can't keep going the way we have been." 

It shocks Mew to hear her name. As careful as he is about hearing or saying his ex's name, it feels strange for Gulf say hers so freely. But maybe it's because she's not his ex. And maybe that's a good thing. The name makes her real, makes her present. All the things Mew's tried to undo by avoiding his ex's name. 

Gulf traces a shape into the ground with his shoe. "I don't want to lose what we have." He looks up at Mew and seems to plead with his eyes, as if begging for understanding. "But I can't be her boyfriend anymore. It's not fair to her… and maybe it's not fair to me." 

Mew doesn't know what to say. Maybe he shouldn't say anything at all. His job should be to listen. Gulf may be candid, but he's not always so open about sharing without being prompted. He ushers them to a set of benches where they can sit and talk. 

Gulf rests his elbows on his legs. "Three years, Phi. Have you ever been with someone that long?" 

Mew laughs. "No." Already he feels ill equipped to give advice. Especially since he and his one ex girlfriend split on such unique terms.

"P'Mew khrab?"

"Hm?"

"What should I do?" 

Mew looks into his eyes. What could he possibly say? He knows nothing about their love, nothing about their relationship. Why is Gulf turning to him for advice instead of his friends? Is it because he's older? Because he doesn't know Poom? Because he and Gulf are just co-workers and he has no personal stake in this? 

But then he remembers his own breakup. He remembers coming home to an emptied house, feeling rejected and betrayed. Feeling unwanted and wondering how long it had been since his partner had stopped loving him and was planning on leaving him. 

"You should talk to her," he tells Gulf. "No matter what, this decision should be between both of you, not one-sided." Every partner deserves that much, at least. 

Gulf nods. "Absolutely. I just wish I knew how I felt." 

"Just say anything you're feeling right now."

His junior shuts his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and forehead wrinkled. "We're not in love, Phi." He opens his eyes and looks at Mew. "We were never in love." 

Mew can understand that. They're both young. First love isn't always true love. And you often don't realize that until you experience the real thing and you can feel the difference. Some don't need a comparison to figure it out. Some come to the conclusion because they realize there has to be something more. 

"But you do love her?" 

Gulf nods. No hesitation. "I'll always love her. That's why it's so hard to let go. I don't want to lose our bond."

Now that, Mew can definitely understand. It was the same for him and his ex girlfriend. "If you love each other, then maybe you should try to work things out." The words feel heavy as he says them. "You may end up falling in love, since there is already so much love there."

Gulf laughs. It's a soft, hurt laugh. "No, Phi. That's not how we are. We're like old people. No romance, all companionship." 

"I don't understand."

"I know." He closes his eyes and nods. "I'm sorry, Phi. I'm not making sense. It's like… she and I were never meant to be lovers. But we were meant to love each other. I don't know how to explain." 

Mew chuckles. "What's that phrase na? Platonic soulmates?" 

"Hm?" 

Mew struggles with the words. Finally he pulls out his phone to look it up. "Platonic… here. When you love somebody so much that you can always be yourself with them and share a special connection, but you have no romantic feelings for them." 

"Platonic soulmates." Gulf tests the words out a few times. "Yes, it's like that." 

"Do you think she feels the same?" 

His junior smiles. "Yes. She'll be pissed she didn't think of it first." He laughs but soon enough he's sad again. "P'Mew khrab?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm afraid I'll lose her if we break up." He traces a pattern on the bench with his finger. "I hardly see her as it is, and I miss her. Being her boyfriend kind of forced us to spend time together. But if we break up, I'm afraid we'll lose touch." 

"It's possible."

"Especially if I love someone else." Gulf looks up and meets his eyes for just a second before looking away. "In the future, I mean."

"Khrab." Mew feels something in his chest. The bloom that's been growing inside him all this time. He doesn't know what to do with it, but it's there all the same. "Yai Nong?" 

"Yes, Khun Phi?" 

"Take your time," he tells him. "Talk to her. Don't be hasty. See what you can resolve, and be as honest as possible. Just make sure you think it out." 

Gulf nods and swallows hard. "Khrab. Thanks na, Phi." 

"Come on," Mew stands and motions for them to go inside. They're not wanted back until the rain stops, because of the noise, but it may be best for them to be around others. "They'll wonder where we've been."

Gulf laughs and follows him. "We were making out, of course." 

"You're so handsy, Yai Nong."

"Can't help it. Khun Phi has a nice ass." 

_______________

Mew looks at his clothes all over the room. On the bed, on the floor, on the dresser. This is the opposite of what he meant when he asked his now ex-friends to help him clean out his closet. He sits on his bed, arms crossed and blood pressure rising. 

P'Pee steps out of the closet in a bright and busy patterned shirt. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," he says, followed by a purr. He claws at the air. "Mew, I can't believe you own something this gay. This is actual silk, thilak." 

"I think the worst part," says Eye, emerging from the closet, "is that he owns it in two different colors…" she's wearing the same shirt in yellow, tied at the waist. She and Pee strike a pose together. 

Mew is laughing too hard to hear the rest of their insults. The two of them are taking selfies, copying Mew's signature poses. "I feel attacked," he tells them.

Eye looks at him through the hand that covers the side of her face. "Sorry, what?" 

Pee giggles and rushes back into the closet, already unbuttoning the silk shirt. "Where are the clothes from your straight days na kha?" 

Eye looks up, her eyebrows hinting at skepticism. "Straight days?" 

Mew rolls his eyes. "I've always liked both, Pee, and you know it." 

"Oh, but you were so cute when you dated women," Pee's voice echoes from the closet. "You wore polos and your shirts were always buttoned up to your neck. Nalak nalak!"

Eye pulls a pair of Mew's slacks over her shorts. "If you get fat, can I have these?" 

"Take them," shouts Pee. "He's already too fat for them."

"Hey!"

Pee walks out wearing a tight polo with a penguin logo. "How did you ever get your cleavage into this thing, Mew?" 

Eye practically cackles. "P'Mew, when I grow up, I want to have the same bra size as you." She bats her eyelashes and dodges the pillow he throws at her. 

Mew's phone chimes, and he couldn't be more grateful for it. It's a text from Gulf. 

** Gulf **

We ended it

The message hangs in the air. _We ended it._ It took less time than he thought. Hadn't he told Gulf to think it through? It was barely a week. 

** Mew **

Sorry na, Yai Nong

** Gulf **

Is Khun Phi busy tonight? Wanna play video games? 

** Mew **

Sounds good

** Gulf **

I'll text when I get home

Mew looks back up to find Pee and Eye stuffing rolled up socks into the polo to make fake breasts. He’s not that chesty, is he?

__________________

"Where are you?" Gulf growls through the headset. 

Mew is almost grateful to hear Gulf's harsh tone again. At least he doesn’t sound sad. He rushes up the hill and shoots down three enemies in a matter of seconds. He sees Gulf duck into an alley as he finishes off the rest.

"Sorry na Khrab." He tries not to laugh. It's hard, considering how cute Gulf sounds when he's serious. 

"I don't have a med pack," he grumbles. "I used it the last time you left me without backup." 

Mew doesn't hide his laughter this time. "Serves you right for always charging ahead without me."

"You take too long." 

He laughs even harder. "I've never heard that as a complaint before." 

Gulf says nothing. Mew wonders if he heard him. His smartass junior usually has something to reply.

"Yai Nong?" 

"Khrab?" His voice is higher than usual.

"Do you want my med pack?" 

He hears Gulf take a deep breath. "I'm okay khrab. Let's stay here while I regenerate." They reload their weapons, check their inventory, and look ahead on the map. Just a few more streets until the next save point. 

Mew never holds it against Gulf when he gets too serious during games. He teases him about it, but he doesn’t judge him for it. He understands the appeal of having complete control over something like an avatar, compared to real life. It's why Mew likes acting so much. Everything in the environment is controlled- the scene, the props, the dialogue. Even the time of day or year. All the actor has to do is play the role, like controlling your character. So he doesn't blame Gulf for getting swept up in the game. But he can't help it if he finds it adorable.

"Are you ready na, Khun Phi khrab?" Gulf sounds so innocent all of a sudden. Where is this coming from?

"Oh, you're being so polite na?" He shakes his head. "Does Yai Nong plan to be sweet to me from now on?" 

Gulf's voice resumes its normal tone. "Don't push your luck na, Phi." 

He laughs again. Gulf's sudden changes in delivery are an endless source of entertainment. "It's okay khrab. Yai Nong is very cute when he's serious." He’s very cute _always_. 

"Phi!" 

_________________

** Mew **

I don't know if I'm doing this right

** Eye **

You're gonna have to be more specific, Phi

** Mew **

Being there for Gulf. He doesn't talk about it, and I don't want to bring it up

** Eye **

What are you doing so far?

** Mew **

We play video games. He sleeps in my lap in the morning. We force each other to eat breakfast. Normal stuff. 

** Eye **

Maybe what he needs is normal

__________________

** Pee **

Bang him

** Mew **

Phi!

** Pee **

Sorry

** Mew **

It's ok

** Pee **

Bang him *kha*

** Mew **

I'm done

__________________

** Mild **

Where are you registered?

** Mew **

Alai?

** Mild **

For wedding gifts

** Mew **

Not you, too…

** Mild **

OffGun recommends IKEA

** Mew **

We're not getting married. Stop that shit

** Mild **

Run wants to vlog it

_____________________

** Run **

Hey, Phi

** Mew **

No.

** Run **

Alai na?

** Mew **

Whatever it is, no. Mai! 

** Run **

Was gonna ask if you wanted me to tell the others to quit teasing you and Nong Gulf. But okay, cool. Hoist the sails! 

** Mew **

I hate you all

______________________

Something grabs Mew around the waist. He jerks and looks over his shoulder. "Alai-" he pauses and laughs. It's Gulf. He's only 50% sure he had a heart attack. Partially because he's extremely ticklish around the waist, and partially because Gulf rarely initiates back hugs. 

He pulls on his arms to tighten them around him. "I thought you were a ghost."

"Why would a ghost want to hug you?" Ah, Gulf. Under his breath, his co-star mutters, "Whose first thought is a ghost, and not the person he hugs every day?" He's got a point.

There's a fluttering in Mew's stomach. Butterflies. Damn butterflies because Gulf is holding him. Gulf, who never cuddles him except when he's grumpy, but is currently fully fed and awake and giving him a back hug. And still being a little shit to him. 

"Aow, you're so mean," Mew whines. He pouts at his junior. "Aren't I huggable?" 

Gulf pulls him close and it feels like he's snuggling into his shoulder. He's not just imagining it, right? "You are now that you're getting fat." 

"Aow!" He turns entirely and seizes Gulf around the waist. "Nong is so cruel to his Phi!" He shakes his stomach up and down. Soon, they're both laughing, joined by the various staff members blushing at the sight of them holding each other.

Mew doesn't know what brought on this boldness in Gulf. He doesn't know why he did it or what it means. What he knows is that it makes him feel happy and hopeful… and warm.

___________________

_Maybe what he needs is normal_. It's strange to think of what's normal between him and Gulf. Gulf sitting in a chair: not normal. Gulf sitting in Mew's lap: normal. Gulf standing by himself: not normal. Gulf standing with Mew holding him: normal. Gulf chatting with people: not normal. Gulf spacing out in Mew's arms while Mew chats with people: normal. 

It's so hard for Mew to understand his Yai Nong at times. On the surface alone, Gulf is a mixture of personalities. His first impression of him was stoic, masculine, and aloof. Sequestered at the auditions, surrounded by people but not talking to anyone, his face hard and cold. But Mew soon realized it was a facade for shyness. A shyness that revealed itself so beautifully when his ears and neck turned red during their almost kiss. The only almost kiss they would ever have. 

And then to find out his Yai Nong was equally bold at times, so candid and honest with his responses. Perhaps due to a lack of social interaction? Not quite knowing what was appropriate or not? Missing out on the social cues one picks up from frequent communication and interaction. Shy kids tend to be more awkward. For some, it generates a sort of second hand embarrassment. For others, like Gulf, it's charming and endearing. For someone so shy and introverted, he at times seems eager to be otherwise. 

Except when he's grumpy. And then he's almost misanthropic. Mew has learned never to make plans with Gulf in the morning. If he wants to call that evening to discuss their characters, he'll wait until his Yai Nong is fed and alert. Gulf will even go so far as to say how much he hates people in general. He'll say this as he snuggles up in Mew's lap, watching football on his phone. 

Gulf is pretty. Everyone knows this. Funny that Mew had once thought him so masculine. Seeing how Gulf sits sometimes (on the rare occasion it's not on his lap), Gulf will sit so demurely, as he's often seen girls sit. Sometimes with one or both legs pulled up to his chest, hugging his knees, other times so delicately angled that he looks like a Renaissance painting of a lady in repose. In these moments, Gulf is breathtaking. And when he tilts his head and plays with his hair or his tiny ears, his pretty face drawn up in a sweet smile, Mew wants to to brush his cheek and tell him how lovely he is. 

And just as easily, Gulf will embody that masculine football player, eyebrows arched and angry, body language tense and aggressive. His speech becomes staccato and flat, like you'd hear in the shadier parts of the city. And this fiery Gulf sets Mew ablaze. 

Cute and mischievous Gulf with his cheeky grin and his witty comebacks. His teasing ways and his fondness for embarrassing Mew at every opportunity. The Gulf that gets his blood pressure up, his mind racing, his fingers tingling at the flirty banter.

And the best part is that all of this is normal for Gulf. Every facet and contradiction. Mew has spent months trying to decipher the beautiful mystery that is his co-star, the one who surprises him every day. It's hard to balance working on himself and being there for his Nong. It's hard being his Phi when he wants to be something more. 

_________________

Gulf sits in his lap, zoned out while he chats with the crew members. Mew loves to talk and laugh with other people while Gulf seems perfectly content to sit there, his stomach being rubbed, patted, shaken, or squished. 

He waits for the crew members to leave before he pokes Gulf's tummy. "Are you leaving first today?" 

"I think so?" 

He makes a sound of acknowledgment. "I have a sad scene tonight," he says. "Too bad I won't have Nong Stress Ball with me." He squeezes tightly and lays his head against Gulf's back. 

"I can stay," Gulf says suddenly. Mew looks up, regretting that he said anything. He's sure his co-star has better things to do. 

"No, you should go home first na. It will make the sadness easier." Did he just admit that he’d miss him?

Gulf looks at him over his shoulder. "No, I want to see if P'Mew will cry." He scrunches his nose and smiles. Brat. Little shit. The most adorable creature on the planet. 

"Yai Nong..." P'Mew uses his threatening voice. He means it as a joke, although part of him really does want to make Gulf behave. Wants to make him be good… wants to make him obey. But it's a very, very small part.

"Nong Gulf is blushing!" Shouts Mild. What the hell is he doing here? Techno isn't in this scene. 

Gulf tenses in his arms. "I'm blushing because I'm embarrassed for P'Mew."

Mew makes a dismissive noise. "So stubborn. Nong becomes more like Type every day."

Gulf's body relaxes again. "Well, you know who Type prefers," he tells him. "Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Mew can't help but smile. The fact that his junior has remembered such a thing and continues to use it makes the bloom in his chest blossom. "And you know who Tharn prefers.”. 

"Look at him, he's shy." Says Mild. "I don't think Yai Nong does any acting on this show. It's just him walking around without a script."

Gulf swats at him with his hand. It looks half-hearted at best. How Mew wishes Mild were speaking the truth. Aside from the dialogue and the homophobia, Gulf seems well suited for his character. 

He turns to look at Mew. "I'll stay na and be your stress ball."

"Ooooooh!" Teases Mild. His noises are echoed by several crew members nearby. The most beautiful blush of red spreads over his cheeks and ears. Mew wants to kiss those ears one day as they turn red, wants to feel the warmth build up in them as he makes Gulf shy. 

He leans in close and gives him a teasing expression. "Be careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf grins at him. "That's your problem, not mine."

How true. 


	23. Senior

They're shooting at the bar, the scene where Tharn drinks himself stupid because of that asshole Type. Mew doesn't have to dig too deep to play this scene. The emotions are readily available to him, given his romantic history. Tharn feels rejected on so many levels, that drawing from one experience would be sufficient for the scene. 

He should have known better, really. He should have known that pursuing Type was always doomed to failure. A lost cause. The guy hates gay people. How on Earth did Tharn think he could pull this off? 

And yet… it was happening, wasn't it? Wasn't type slowly starting to reciprocate? Tharn's been over this in his head a million times. And while it's obvious Type likes him back, the fact remains that Tharn is simply not good enough. Not good enough for Type to admit his feelings, and not good enough to compete with a girl. 

He hopes she's nice. He hopes she treats him well and makes him happy. He hopes she gives him all the things he wants, because Tharn will never get that privilege. Tharn, who is a man. Tharn, who is gay. Tharn, who is only good for a good fuck. 

P'Tee calls it a wrap, and Mew makes wai to P'Jeed and her husband. The tears are still welled on his eyes, threatening to break the barrier of his water line and flow down his cheeks. He sees Gulf standing behind the monitors, and he can't hold the tears back any longer. He embraces him tightly, hiding in the crook of his neck, where he wants to stay forever. His weight drops onto his co-star, but he can't support himself anymore. The tears run down his cheek as he’s consumed by the overwhelming worry that Tharn isn't good enough for Type, and that Mew isn't good enough for Gulf. 

All the fears he's been harboring come bubbling to the surface. He's too old for Gulf. He's in a different part of his life where he's ready to settle down and get serious about his future. Gulf is just starting out. He'll want to experience life before deciding on a path. They'll want different things. They have different personalities. Mew loves talking and socializing. He loves being around other people. Gulf hates all of that. He prefers one on one interaction, if he has to interact at all. Hell, they don't even know each other that well. They know more about each other's characters than each other. 

And there's his baggage. Mew may be damaged, but he’s also experienced. He's learned from his mistakes, whereas Gulf has yet to make them. The disparity of their perspectives eats away at him. It makes him feel too much like an authority figure compared to Gulf's innocence. As if they aren't equals, and Mew wants them to be equals in every way. For all these reasons, and possibly more, Mew knows he's not worthy of Gulf. 

He pulls away, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. His junior reaches out, running his thumb under his eye to dry his cheeks. Sometimes he wishes Gulf wouldn't touch him so tenderly. Or as often. Or at all. It would make it easier to give up on him. 

"Careful," he tells his Yai Nong. "Or you'll make me fall for you." He means it this time. Every day, Gulf runs the risk of making him fall for him even more. 

He holds Mew on either side of his face, staring into his eyes. "I'll live," he says. He says it so simply, so reassuringly that Mew wants to take it as an invitation. But that's more wishful thinking, isn't it? Gulf would live through it, but Mew might not. 

"Don't break my heart like Type," he says, half crying and half laughing. He means this, too. Because Gulf could break it if he wanted to. It would be so easy. 

His junior scoffs and shoves at his chest. "Don't give me a reason to." But Mew thinks he just might. How many other things has he screwed up in the name of love? Because when it comes to such things, Mew is the biggest fool of them all. 

They leave arm in arm that night, with Mew singing as they head to the parking lot. It's the love song he sang the day P'Pee came over and asked when he'd started singing again. He knows it's because of Gulf that he's resumed his old habit, that Gulf is the reason he feels inspired to sing. He looks over and sees his nong watching him. 

"How does Khun Phi do it?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Your scene just now," he explains. "You're so believable. I almost felt bad, as if I'd actually hurt you." But no, Mew hurts himself enough. Tortures himself with fears and doubts. 

He laughs, pulling Gulf closer. "It gets easier the more times your heart is broken." Simple as that. 

His co-star pokes at his chest. "Ah, but you said you never have trouble with girls."

"Oh?" He pauses. Well, it's true. He wonders what conjectures Gulf is drawing from this fact. Does he want him to know that he's dated men? It would only matter if he decided to pursue something with Gulf. Otherwise, it's trivial. Furthermore, why does Gulf remember this? "I guess I did say that. Well, my car's over there. I'll see you tomorrow." He squeezes Gulf's arm before disengaging himself. He'll let his co-star draw his own conclusions. 

"Khrab." 

Mew starts his car and rolls down the window. "Yai Nong?" 

"Khrab?" 

He looks at his junior, at his bare face, no makeup, no product. Even his hair is in its natural state of fluff. The parking lot lighting is harsh on his features, and yet how lovely he seems. So real and raw and unfiltered. No trace of Type, just Gulf. 

"Thanks for being my stress ball tonight." 

Gulf salutes him and walks toward his own car. Something nags at Mew as he drives home. Should he have been more open with Gulf? 

________________ 

_"I wish you wouldn't try to hold my hand in public," said P'Bank. He removed his shoes and sulked over to the couch._

_Mew slipped off his sneakers, eyes glued to the floor. He knew it was risky and stupid, but he couldn't help himself. Could anyone blame him for wanting to show of his gorgeous boyfriend? His hot, older boyfriend who was a third year in college and had his own apartment? Mew wanted to tell his friends, but P'Bank's little brother went to the same high school, and well, Mew couldn't tell anyone. And it was killing him. At this point, he thought about coming out to his sister just so they could moon over how hot Bank was._

_"Come on, then," he called to Mew. He gestured for him to snuggle next to him. Mew obeyed, curling his taller self against his Phi. "I just don't want us to get hurt," he said._

_Mew nodded. "I understand na Phi. I just want everyone to know you're mine." He looked up at his lovely, round eyes and full lips. Mew remembered the first time P'Bank kissed him, how clumsy and eager he was to please an older boy. A college boy. A man. And much later, when P'Bank told him roughly that he wanted Mew to take him, to show him what a handsome boy such as himself could do, Mew wanted more than anything to rise to the occasion._

_Mew also remembered how gentle P'Bank was afterwards, when Mew failed spectacularly. Bank having to teach Mew how to prep him properly, how to feel it out and tell when to add another finger. When he went soft trying to please his senior, his mind so anxious, his courage so frail. A disaster. And P'Bank assured him that topping wasn't as easy as it seemed, and that they could try again later._

_The second time was better. Mew was always an attentive person, and paying attention to his lover was easy once his anxiety faded away. He didn't need P'Bank to tell him when he was ready. And God, seeing his senior laid out on the bed, hot and eager for him, it brought out something in Mew that had been dormant in all his 18 years of life. Something feral and dominant. And P'Bank nearly woke the neighbors that night with the sounds he made._

______________________

They're shooting separately for most of the day. Mew has his scenes with Techno and Lhong, while Gulf has his texting montage. It feels weird being apart, particularly where they left off last night. Mew replays it in his head, Gulf's teasing face as he called his bluff, Ah, but you said you never have trouble with girls . What was Gulf trying to get at? Calling him out on his arrogance? Calling him out on his sexual orientation? 

Probably arrogance. The little shit likes to tease him, likes to prove him wrong whenever he can. Does he even know how close he got to discovering the truth? Mew isn't very secretive about it. Didn't he post a video online where he admitted that gender doesn't matter to him in love? He meant it. He meant for everyone to see it. At some point, you just don't give a shit and you want people to see you as you really are. And hell, doesn't every fan want to know the truth about their idol? Can he help it if he wants to share everything with the world? Happiness and love ought to be collective things, emotions to contribute to the universe. 

He just wonders what would happen if Gulf ever found that video. How differently would he look at him? 

____________________ 

_"Fuck, baby." P'Bank lay back on the pillows, his breath shaky and his face flushed. "You're amazing. Are you sure I'm your first?"_

_Mew wiped his boyfriend's chest, smiling down at him. He joined him on the bed, trailing kisses up his neck. "Yes. Don't you remember my first time?"_

_P'Bank chuckled, bringing Mew in for a kiss. "No. You fucked the memory out of me. Can we do that again tonight?"_

_Mew fell back on the pillows, exhausted but exhilarated. He basked in the tingles that traveled the length of his body, recalling P'Bank's earlier praises that he was the best he'd ever had._

_He curled around his senior and kissed his shoulder. "P'Bank khrab?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Can I ask how many people you've been with?" A reasonable question, given the six months they had been together._

_Bank stared at the ceiling, his lips moving silently as he counted. "Six?"_

_"Including me?"_

_"Seven, then." P'Bank looked at him. "Why, baby?"_

_Mew bit down on his shoulder. "Just curious. Want to see how many people I'm better than." He grinned and avoided a playful swat at his head. To be honest, Mew had worried about the difference in their experience. He was only 18, after all. P'Bank was 21. Three years would mean nothing when they were older, but it felt considerable at this stage. 21 years old felt so far, so accomplished. So adult. What would he be like at 21, and would he and P'Bank still be together?_

_"Does it bother you that I'm so young?"_

_"Only because you don't live on your own." Bank kissed the top of his head. "Does it bother you that I'm older?"_

_Mew gave him a look. As if. His only problem was that he couldn't fucking brag about it. How many of his classmates had hot college boyfriends? None. God, he was cool. He shook his head. "It's hot," he said. "And you know all kinds of stuff. You taught me how to… you know."_

_His senior chuckled. "Prep me?" He sat up and pressed his nose to Mew's. "Showed you how to put those long fingers of yours inside me and get me ready to take your gorgeous cock?"_

_Mew's face was on fire. How could his senior say such things? He wiggled away from him and buried his face in the pillows._

_P'Bank grabbed his ass. "Come on, baby. If we're gonna have sex, you gotta be able to talk about it."_

_Mew knew it was true. He hated feeling like a teenager at times. He never felt that way during sex. He felt confident and powerful and in control. He got off on making his boyfriend feel good. All he had to do was pay attention to what P'Bank liked and alternate it with some teasing. Sex wasn't that hard. He wondered why some people were bad at it. Not that he would know, having only slept with one person. But if his senior said Mew was the best, he wasn't going to argue. He had enough evidence from Bank's moaning and clawing to convince himself his boyfriend spoke the truth._

_"Khrab," he said, looking up. "Just wait. One day, my dirty talk will be better than yours."_

_________________ 

Gulf holds his fist out in front of Mew's face. He squints at him, alternating closing his left and right eyes. 

"Nong, what are you doing?" 

"Shhh, Khun Phi, I'm trying to concentrate." 

Mew sighs and crosses his arms. "You already know how to throw a stage punch." 

Gulf brings his fist back and kisses it. "I want it to look good." He swings and lands right in front of his face. 

Mew snaps his teeth at his fist. His co-star jumps back and laughs. "Khun Phi!" He shakes his head at him. "Now I have to start all over again." For fuck's sake. Mew rolls his eyes and walks away. 

"Khun Phi…" 

Mew looks at him over his shoulder and laughs. "Okay, okay." He stands at his mark again. "Like I can say no to you, anyway." 

Gulf beams at him. "Is that true na?" 

He shrugs. "You're too annoying when you don't get your way. What choice do I have?" He grins to show he's joking. Well, mostly. What he doesn't tell Gulf is that he likes that about him. He likes having someone's desires to yield to. He likes having someone to spoil. And maybe it's not his place to do these things, seeing as he's nobody special to Gulf. But it makes him happy to make Gulf happy. 

His junior squints at him again. "Khun Phi should hope that I don't miscalculate and hit him on

accident." 

Oh, the brat wants to play? Mew leaves his mark and steps close to his co-star so that they're almost touching. "You're threatening to hit me?" 

"I said no such thing. I shared my hope that there would be no accident to harm Khun Phi's handsome face." He makes a taunting kissy espression, puckering his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

Mew mimics him. "Is Yai Nong going to kiss me on accident, too?" 

And that's when Gulf's ears turn red. "If I did, it wouldn't be an accident." His nong laughs as soon as he says it. Most definitely it was a joke, and Mew can't help but laugh, too. He loves how bold Gulf can be, but how shy he is about it. 

It's times like these that make Mew wonder if there could actually be anything between them. He doesn't even know if the brat likes men, but his gaydar tells him yes. Though he wonders if being bi makes his gaydar less accurate. Perhaps it's only at half strength, given he's only half gay. But what straight guy gets a boner during a love scene with another man? Or slips another guy tongue when it's clearly not in the script? Or when they talked about Type feeling different because he's gay. And Gulf telling Mew that he understood it, _Because I've felt it, too._ Doesn't that mean something? 

Or what about their chemistry being off the charts? He's never felt like this with another actor. A connection so profound that mere proximity is enough to bring out his character. That day at auditions when he acted with Gulf and Mew felt the very first inklings of Tharn emerge, feeling him slowly come to life inside him. And how it was Gulf's portrayal of Type that helped Mew find that connection to Tharn. Then there are all the exchanges they've had, the way their minds are so attuned to each other. The way they can read each other's expressions, even some early on. Those eight minutes they stared into each other's eyes and Mew could feel the emotions coming from his co star. Like a bond that's always existed, just waiting to be unearthed. It's like nothing Mew has ever experienced. 

Gulf smirks and scratches his head. "Yeah, well. Type wouldn't have punched Tharn if he hadn't been so possessive. It's not like he has the right to be so angry." 

"What?" Mew raises an eyebrow. "You don't think he has a right to be angry?" 

"They're not dating.” 

Mew stares at him. Is Gulf being serious? "But they're sleeping together. They're lovers." Does that mean nothing? 

"Casual lovers," says Gulf. "That's different." 

Mew can't describe what he's feeling. Shock? Disbelief? Betrayal? How can Gulf be so heartless about this? 

Mew takes a step back and looks at his junior, really looks at him. For the first time since workshops, he looks like a kid to Mew. Like a clueless teenager who's never experienced heartache. Who's never been rejected, never felt unrequited love. A kid who doesn't understand the sanctity of the kind of relationship Tharn and Type have. The operative word was never _casual_. It's _lovers_ . 

Mew tries to reason with him. "Type only calls them casual lovers because he's afraid to admit his feelings for Tharn." 

Gulf crosses his arms. He’s getting defensive now. "What if he doesn't know how he feels? Try to imagine how new all of this is for him." 

"Then he shouldn't be leading Tharn on like this." 

"Like what?" Gulf's voice is rising. 

Mew throws his hands up. "Asking him to lunch, going out to dinner with him, getting upset when Tharn goes home, missing him, doing all those things to make up with him, kissing him, letting Tharn hold him, touching his face…" he laughs at the ridiculousness of this argument. "Why would he do those things if he doesn't have feelings for Tharn?" 

"He doesn't know what he's doing!" Gulf's ears are turning red again, but for a much different reason. "He's not like Tharn, he hasn't had a shit ton of exes and lovers. He's learning as he goes, but that doesn't mean he isn't confused." 

Mew takes a step closer, his eyes glaring at him. "He sure as fuck isn't confused when it comes to Puifai. He's been sleeping with Tharn for weeks, and yet he's going to ask her to be his girlfriend when he hasn't even known her for a month!" 

Gulf stares at him defiantly. "He's scared. He's doing what's familiar to him. Maybe if Tharn wasn't so pushy and expecting him to be on the same level as him, he wouldn't have been tempted to go back where it's safe." He pokes at Mew's chest, right at the heart. "Tharn should be more considerate of Type's inexperience." 

Mew closes his eyes. It's the issue he's been battling in his head, isn't it? That he has more experience than Gulf, and that it makes them unequal? At least Tharn and Type are the same age and at the same point in their lives. Compared to them, he and Gulf look even more unsuited for each other. Why did he ever allow himself to fall so hard for this fucking brat? This child. 

Mew opens his eyes and steps back again. "Then Type should have talked to him. He's so quick to spew his hate speech and mouth off, but he can't have a mature conversation with the guy he's been fucking?" He growls and walks off toward the snack table to get some water. He tries to ignore everyone staring at him. Are they thinking the same things he is? 

He sees one of the interns lean in toward a staff member. "Was that a method acting exercise?" 

The staff member shakes her head. "No, that's just them being Mew and Gulf." 

Mew chugs the bottle of water. How true. At least they won't have trouble acting out the scene. 

__________________ 

** Eye  **

How was the heart today? 

** Mew **

What heart? 

** Eye  **

Yikes, Phi. That bad? 

**Mew**

What else is new? 

**Eye**

How long have you been fighting na? 

**Mew**

Just a few hours. Heading home. 

**Eye**

That's it, you need a girl's night kha. I'm calling Pee. Invite any women you know who could give advice or support. 

**Mew**

Is that necessary? 

**Eye**

You want it to be just me and Pee giving advice? 

**Mew**

I'll see who's available 

**Eye**

Atta boy 

_______________ 

"You invited _who_?" Eye stands in Mew's kitchen, arms crossed, looking at him with an incredulous expression. 

"My ex girlfriend, Fasai." 

She smacks his arm. "I said someone who can give advice and support!" 

Mew laughs. He should have explained. "She's been doing that for years. We've stayed friends."

His nong freezes in place. "That's a thing?" 

"It is for us." 

P'Pee walks in and leans on the counter. "What's a thing?" 

Eye turns to him and rests her arm on his shoulder. "P'Mew and his ex girlfriend staying friends. I can't wait to see that in action tonight." 

Pee straightens up. "Fasai? Fasai is coming and you let me wear this?" He rushes to

Mew's room. "I'm borrowing your gay shirt!" 

"I donated it." 

"You bitch. I'm just gonna help myself." 

Eye raises an eyebrow at him. "What's got his panties in a twist?" 

Mew sighs and covers his face with his hand. "How do I explain this?" He considers taking some aspirin now as a preventative for the inevitable headache. "Pee always feels compelled to look good around Fasai. He wants to be on her level whenever they're together." 

Pee walks back in wearing a grey v-neck shirt under a maroon blazer. 

Mew gives him the ok sign. "I was just telling Eye that Fasai is…" 

"A goddess." 

"...stylish." 

Eye looks back and forth between them. "Ah. So, she's fabulous?" 

"Yes," they say at the same time. 

P'Pee leans in toward her and cups a hand over his mouth. "Her only flaw is that she dated Mew." They giggle together and look at him. 

Mew stares off in the distance. "That's probably true. Who wants a beer?" The two of them raise a hand. 

The doorbell rings and Pee startles, knocking into Eye and spilling beer all over her blouse. "Shia! Sweetie, I'm sorry." He dabs at her chest with a dish towel. 

"It's open!" Mew shouts toward the door. They hear it open and close, followed by the sounds of shoes being removed. 

Pee twirls around as she enters the kitchen, and there she is. Fasai. The only woman Mew ever fell in love with, and still loves to this day. He never can get over how striking she is. Truth be told, she's not really Mew's type. He prefers cute and pretty, whereas Fasai has the kind of piercing, devastating beauty that's so intense it hurts. 

"Oh, you gorgeous thing, give us a hug." Pee pulls her in for an embrace. 

"You look so sophisticated, dear." She runs her finger down his lapel. "Ralph Lauren?"

He sneaks a glance at Mew, who nods his head. "Why, yes it is," says Pee. 

Fasai turns to Mew next. She smiles and touches his cheek. "My beautiful mess." She runs her fingers through his hair and he can't help but lean into the touch. He's missed her. 

He pulls her in for a hug. "Thank you na for coming." He inhales her familiar scent of Arabian Jasmine. He remembers that scent clinging to his clothing and his bedsheets and how it made him feel like falling in love. Smelling it now reminds him that once upon a time, someone amazing thought he was worth loving. Maybe he still is.

They part and she turns to Eye. Fasai gives her that smile that she gives to all women, the one she's had to learn and practice. The _I'm not a threat_ smile. Women have a tendency to feel intimidated and insecure around her. It doesn't help that she's as tall as Mew. That's taller even than most Western women. 

"And you must be the brains of the group," she says to Eye. "What's it like babysitting grown men?" She ignores the sounds of indignance from Mew and Pee. 

Eye is still frozen in place. She stares at Fasai with a kind of wondrous amazement, like she's never seen anyone like her before. And most likely she hasn't. Pee walks over and nudges her with his elbow. 

A sort of strangled sound comes out of her mouth. "Yes." She blinks a few times. She looks around, as if emerging from a haze. Her eyes travel back to Fasai and she smiles big and radiantly. "At least they're housebroken." 

The two of them laugh together and Fasai turns to Mew. "Allow me to ask the obvious, dearest. Why aren't you in love with this young woman instead another pretty boy with pouty lips?" 

Pee makes a hmph noise and Mew rolls his eyes. "Don't make trouble Fasai…" 

She moves next to Eye, hooking their arms together. "Tell me, is he really that pretty?" 

Eye looks down at their entwined arms, confused but rather pleased. She nods. "Like an angel." 

"A cherub," Pee specifies. 

"Guys…" says Mew. 

Fasai leans in toward her. "He can't be prettier than you, can he?" Eye nods, but Fasai shakes her head. "I shouldn't have asked you. You're too modest. Who's got a picture of this cherub for me?" 

"Just one?" Asks Pee. 

Mew sighs and takes a large swig of his beer. "Just give her your damn phone. How many pics of him do you have?" 

"They're wardrobe shots for work, you bitch," Pee snaps at him. "Here, love. With makeup, and then swipe left for without." 

Fasai studies his face on the screen, tilting her head and arching an eyebrow. Eye stares at her, eyes wide and curious. Mew's never seen his nong so disarmed. Then again, Fasai can be very disarming. He wonders if he should have warned Eye about meeting her. 

"New, he's breathtaking." Fasai swipes left and smiles. "Even without makeup. Such eyes, like a deer. And, well, those lips say everything, don't they? Just enough for you to bite." 

"Fasai…" Mew starts. 

She looks up and smiles. "Congratulations, New my love, you've found a boy who's exactly your type." She turns to Eye and tugs on her arm. "I bet he's a brat, isn't he?" 

Pee makes a loud sigh. "He's got Mew wrapped around his pretty little finger. Oh, don't look at me like that, _New_." 

Eye looks around at the three of them. "New?" 

Fasai leans down as if to share a secret. "Didn't he tell you? His real nickname is New, but he

changed it to Mew when he started modeling. There are so many News out there." 

Eye looks up at her. "Kha… so you knew him before he changed it?" 

She nods. "We dated in college. I like to call him New every now and then as a reminder that I've known him long enough to have lots of dirt on him." They giggle together and Fasai nudges her shoulder. "And for the record, this boy isn't half as pretty as you." She unhooks their arms and grabs Mew's beer. 

"Help yourself…" 

She clinks bottles with Pee and opens the fridge. "Don't I always?" 

They settle in the living room, Pee and Eye on the couch and Fasai sitting on the floor with Mew's head in her lap. She strokes his hair while he hugs a pillow to his chest. He's missed this, missed such loving and intimate touches. If he's being honest, he sometimes wishes he could be the one who's held, petted, and cherished. Not all the time, of course. He prefers being the one doing those things. It's just every now and then he would like to be taken care of. 

He tells them about his concern, that he and Gulf are unequal. He tells them about their fight from this evening and how closely it mirrors their situation. God, it's embarrassing. He's 28 and mooning over a 21 year old. He tells them this, and how pathetic it makes him feel. 

"So?" Eye shakes her head and shrugs. "Gulf's a big boy. He can make his own decisions." 

"Yes, but what if they're the wrong decisions? He's 21. What does he know about life or love or whatever?" 

Pee throws his legs onto Eye's lap. "Well, you shouldn't pursue him if that's how you think of him. You really think he's that clueless?" 

Mew considers it. His knee jerk reaction is to say yes, Gulf really has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's intrepid, that's for sure. But it doesn't compensate for having experience. He tells them this, too. 

Fasai covers his mouth with her hand. "New-New, shut the fuck up. How experienced are you, and yet how many mistakes have you made anyway?" She leans down to look into his eyes. "It's love. Experience can only do so much. It's courage that always pays off. And your boy seems to have plenty of that." 

Pee snickers. "You should see him when he's with Mew. He's fearless." 

Eye nods. "He already asserts himself as Phi's equal, doesn't he, P'Pee?" 

"Has he seen Mew's temper?" Asks Fasai. Mew's groan is muffled by her hand still over his mouth. 

Pee and Eye laugh with each other. "Not only has he seen it multiple times," says Pee, "but he's won most of the arguments." Now all three of them are laughing. 

Eye pats Pee's legs. "Phi, remember when they were arguing over who sang that one song?" She turns to Fasai. "They went on for an hour, each of them saying it was a different person. An hour, P'Fasai! Neither of them wanted to look it up because they were convinced they were right and that they didn't need to prove it." She and Pee roll their eyes at each other.

Fasai shakes her head. "Both hot headed and stubborn. What a pair." 

Eye giggles. "I finally looked it up for them, just to shut them up. Turns out, they were both wrong!" More laughter, more fingers pointed at him. 

Mew thinks about what they've said. It's not as if he has a choice, given his mouth is covered and they're just laughing at him anyway. Pee's telling them about the time Gulf threw the earbuds at him. 

He hears Fasai's words in his head, _It's love. Experience can only do so much. It's courage that always pays off. And your boy seems to have plenty of that._ Hadn't he once been in that situation? 18 years old and so determined to show his senior he could handle a mature relationship. And in the end, P'Bank became unfaithful and sought someone closer to his own age. Someone who could keep up with him and didn't have to be taught how to love like an adult. Resentment builds up inside of him. He doesn't want Gulf to ever feel inadequate, and with such an age gap, it's bound to happen. He licks at Fasai's hand to scare her off. She recoils and hisses at him. 

"Bad," she scolds. She wipes the saliva on his shirt and clamps her hand over his mouth again, her grip tight as he struggles against her. "You know it's no use fighting me," she reminds him. He groans and lies still. Damnit, Fasai. 

She looks down at him with contempt. "Ask nicely and I'll let you go." He rolls his eyes and taps lightly on her hand. "Was that so hard na?" She releases him and he sits up, rubbing his sore jaw. 

Eye giggles behind her hands. "P'Fasai, you remind me of how Gulf acts with P'New… I mean P'Mew!" She blushes and takes a swig of her beer. 

Fasai leans over to Mew's ear and whispers, "She's lovely." 

He widens his eyes at her. "Don't…" 

"Why not?" She snaps playfully. "You're not going after her. Is she taken?" 

"No, but she likes men." 

Fasai waves him off. "Like that's ever been a problem for me." She grins and winks at him. Mew rolls his eyes. 

Pee looks at them, clearly catching on to what they've said. Eye seems preoccupied with her beer, peeling off the label. His senior picks up his own bottle and holds it up to Fasai as if to tell her, good luck. 

"So," says Fasai, directing her gaze at Eye. She gives her that smile she uses when she wants something. And Fasai is very good at getting what she wants. A seasoned and experienced brat. "Gulf orders him around?" 

Eye looks at Mew with big eyes, as if asking permission to answer. "Well…" 

"Don't look at him," Fasai orders. "Look at me. He won't get mad at you for telling the truth, will you, New-New?" He sighs and shakes his head. He may love her to death, but he's starting to remember why they broke up. Too much brat, too much control, and not enough compromise.

Eye still looks hesitant, but she answers anyway. She clearly recognizes who has the most power in the room. "Kha. Sometimes he tells him what to do, but other times he doesn't even have to say anything. Gulf just kind of…" 

"Helps himself," Pee finishes. "In the morning, off he goes to sit in Mew's lap or snuggle next to him on the couch like it's the most normal thing in the world. I'm telling you, Fasai, that boy owns him." 

Mew whines and hides his face in Fasai's arm. "Make them stop." 

"As if, this is good shit." 

"Oh," says Eye. "And it's like P'Mew already knows what Gulf wants. Like how he gets hot easily, so he's always fanning him or pulling him over to the aircon between scenes. At least, he did that when I was on set." 

"It's always," Pee confirms. "And the precious thing doesn't like talking that much. Shame, really. His awkward, lilting speech pattern makes my heart melt. So, guess who runs interference and does all the talking?" 

Fasai feigns disbelief. "Mew? Dominating the conversation? Never!" She laughs and pats his head. "Oh, New-New. You're not even dating and he's already got you trained." 

Mew sits up again. "He's straight," he says. "I should have opened with that." 

Pee scoffs. "Yeah, so am I." 

"Right. Me, too," says Eye with a laugh. She freezes, her eyes widening. She looks at P'Pee in shock. Mew and Fasai exchange looks. Fasai looks triumphant. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. Are all his friends into the same sex? Does that mean Gulf is? 

He looks at his senior. "What makes you so confident, P'Pee?" At least one person in this room has full-powered gaydar. 

Pee makes a face that seems to say, oh, please. "If you ever let the little pineapple talk for five minutes, something gay inevitably comes out of his mouth." He smirks and turns to Eye. "He once told me he was watching SOTUS for the second time so he could learn how to look thirsty. He said Singto was, and I quote, _so sexy, you know?_ _I wouldn't mind being in BL with him_." 

Eye slaps the armrest of the couch. "You, too?" She looks at Mew and Fasai. "He told me he was watching Friend Zone to research BL, but that he was only watching the scenes with Singto!" 

Mew's reminded of that day in workshop, when he told Gulf to use Singto's character in SOTUS for inspiration on looking turned on. Nobody does thirsty like Singto. He remembers Gulf's response, _Singto's very sexy_. Well, that settles it. The little shit's got himself a man crush. 

Fasai closes her eyes and laughs. She pats Mew on the leg. "Sounds like you have some competition." She holds a finger to her chin and turns to Pee. "Wasn't Singto's love scene the one that people compared to Mew's love scene in What The Duck? I remember people debating which one was hotter." 

Mew gives up. He lies back on the floor, which prompts Chopper to get out of his doggy bed and come lick his face. Mew feels his scratchy tongue assail his cheek and he decides to just let him. What does it matter? His life is a joke. Just listen to his friends laugh at him. He groans for what feels like the billionth time and sits up to face them. "Weren't you assholes supposed to be making me feel better, not worse?" 

"We're helping, Phi!" Says Eye. "We just determined that Gulf is attracted to men." 

"To Singto," he corrects. "And he's practically a free pass, along with Earth Pirapat and Lee Thanat. Besides, every straight guy gets one man crush." And now he knows who Gulf's is. Figures it would be someone completely unlike him. His chances are looking worse and worse. 

"Here's a thought," says Fasai. "You could talk to him." 

That's the one thing Mew can't bring himself to do. Talking would make things real. At least if he doesn't address the situation, the possibility of Gulf returning his feelings would still exist. Schrodinger's crush. 

________________ 

Grumpy Gulf shuffles over to him in the armchair, but instead of sitting in his lap in the usual way, he sits on him sideways and rests his head against Mew's shoulder. Mew looks at him, stunned and shaken from Gulf's face so close to his neck. His Bambi eyes are shut, and his lips look so inviting. He wants more than anything in this moment to lean forward and claim them. How many times have they kissed already, and yet he still wants more? 

Gulf opens his eyes and yet Mew can't look away out of shame. Is it so shameful to feel this way for Gulf, given the connection they share? He forgot to mention professionalism last night, but he can guess what the others would say, that they're already past all pretenses of propriety. That it's their unstoppable chemistry that fuels their performances as Tharn and Type. It's not unusual for co-stars to develop feelings for each other. 

Grumpy Gulf furrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms. "Sorry na, Khun Phi." Even his apology sounds grumpy. 

Mew gives him a sideways glance. "For what?" 

His junior looks away, avoiding eye contact. "For yesterday. For yelling at you." 

"Ah…" Mew wraps his arms around Gulf's waist. He smiles when he sees his eyebrows relax. That's always a good sign. "You made an excellent point, though. Everything is new for him, and maybe he needs more time to sort out his feelings." 

Gulf nods. "Yes, but all the more reason for him to watch his actions. Just because he's never been with a man, it doesn't mean he doesn't know how dating works." He lays his head back on Mew's shoulder. "They may not be in a relationship, but it's pretty obvious that they're dating." 

"Khrab." Mew feels his junior relax against his body. He loves feeling Gulf's weight on him, feeling the heft of his entire being resting within his arms. "How do you think Type feels in this scene?" They're about to shoot Type's apology, ironically. 

His co-star re-adjusts to face him better. "Honestly, I think he's still trying to make sense of everything, even as he's holding Tharn in bed." He reaches out and plays with one of Mew's buttons. "He's still wondering why he feels this way na. But he knows he can't be without Tharn anymore, and that whatever label he applies to his feelings, the end result is wanting to stay in Tharn's arms and never let go." 

Mew looks at his co-star, thinking of the intimacy of this moment, of their bodies so close and

Gulf's fingers toying with his button. He wonders if it's still Grumpy Gulf he's interacting with, and whether this conversation will fade away like all the other Grumpy mornings. He used to wonder whether Gulf was aware of his actions during this state, worried that there was some kind of consent issue he ought to bring up. _Don't worry na Khun Phi. I'm awake, I just don't have a filter in the morning. So, don't ask me for my credit card number, okay na khrab?_ No filter, whether that be verbally or physically. Gulf just does what he wants. 

"But ultimately, he decides to date Tharn." It's not a question, of course. They know what happens. But he wants to hear more from Gulf, wants more insight into that keen mind of his. Everyday, he's surprised by how perceptive his co-star is. How intuitive. How mature. He may be a fucking brat, but the little shit's understanding of human nature is more like someone… well, someone older. And right now, that's a dangerous thought for Mew to have. 

Gulf gives one of his slow, exaggerated nods. "Type thinks with his emotions, not with logic or reason. He learns those later. Right now," he snuggles against Mew's neck. "all he knows are want and need and love." 

Mew wraps his arm around Gulf's shoulder. "That's more than enough for Tharn." _________________ 

Type's arm tightens around him. "Khor thot jing jing…" _I'm so sorry._

Tharn removes his earbuds and tosses them on the nightstand. He's dreaming, he has to be. Type doesn't apologize. He wouldn't know how to. Only in his dreams would Type crawl into his bed and hold him. But at this point, Tharn doesn't care. He'll take this fantasy of Type, since he'll never have the real thing. He'll play along. 

"Why are you apologizing?" 

"I slept with Puifai." 

Tharn doesn't react. Why is Type telling him this? Why is he holding him while he describes her inviting him to her room? Even in his dreams, Type breaks his heart. 

"And suddenly, I remembered what I said to you." 

Tharn remembers. He wishes he could forget the way Type sounded when he said it. Like he didn't care about Tharn and never had. 

"It pains me," says Type. His grip on him tightens, his hand clinging to his shirt. A habit of his, and Tharn knows that because that's how often they've touched each other. 

"Why?" 

"I don't know." 

Of course he doesn't. Can't he ever get a straightforward answer from Type? Can't something be clear between them besides that stupid sex contract? Type is only forthright when he's being cruel. What does he mean he doesn't know? And yet he sounded so desperate when he said it. As if it frustrated him, too. 

"The thought of you being with another man makes me insane. Why?" He squeezes the fabric of Tharn's shirt. He doesn't answer. Type goes on. "When I was hugging her soft body, I kept thinking about yours." Tharn wants to believe him. He thinks about the way Type's hands roam his back and shoulders when they have sex, the way he grabs at his heart. Surely it was only for him. 

"While I was kissing her, all I thought about was your kiss." Part of Tharn wants to laugh. How many times has Type rejected his kiss? He can still hear him now, _No kissing_. He can still feel him push against his chest at P'Jeed's bar. He can still hear Type's phone go off while he tried to kiss him, Type telling him to get off him so he could respond to Puifai. Yet he claims it's his kiss that he thought about? How could that ever be true? 

"Whenever I'm with her, I'm always thinking of you." Tharn remembers it the other way around. He remembers the nights spent staring longingly at his roommate while he texted Puifai. While Type ignored him in the next bed over. The bed he used to make excuses to sleep in with him. _I'm sleeping in your bed tonight. Mine's dirty. I don't want to sleep on it._ At what point did the tables turn and suddenly Tharn was the one on his mind? 

If this really is a dream, then he has to know something. He turns to face Type, feeling his arm loosen around him but staying put. "Did you really sleep with her?" If it's yes, then he wants to wake up. He can't stand two worlds in which Type made love to someone else. 

"I couldn't do it, Tharn." He grabs at his shirt. "Do you hear me?" 

_Do you hear me?_

It isn't a dream, is it? He looks at Type, who claims he can't sleep with women anymore. He shifts his body and God they're so close. They're always so close. Even in the early days of the war, their faces only centimeters from each other. Close the way only they can be. 

He tries to reason with Type. Maybe he's tired or not into her. Maybe he'd be interested in other men. 

Type grabs him by the shirt again. "Do you want to die?" If it meant his last moments would be in bed with Type, he'd be tempted to say yes. You shouldn't have to live with a broken heart. 

"You are the only one I want to sleep with," he tells Tharn. So why does he want to cry? Is it because he's starting to believe him? Does he believe this Type who clutches at his shirt, yelling at him that he's the only one… _You are the only one_ … it feels so real, so solid, so true. It has to be real because his imagination could never in a million years create a Type as beautiful and fierce as the real thing. 

"Please forgive me. Forgive me one more time." 

Tharn doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have the words, and so he reaches out and eases Type onto his shoulder, feeling him break down into tears. How long has he been holding them in? 

Tharn combs fingers through his hair. "Good boy," he says to soothe his crying. He tells him how he can never be angry with him. Hurt and harsh, but never truly angry. Type continues to cry. Tears splatter on his shoulder, and Tharn wants the sadness to be over. He wants to leave it behind, because that's not who they are anymore. Because the war is over, and they both won. 

Tharn allows himself to smile, perhaps for the first time in over a week. "So… you're mine now." 

Type looks up and Tharn can see that familiar look of defiance in his eyes. "It's you who are mine," he says. "because I won't let you go again." Because of course Type would be possessive. And Tharn wouldn't want it any other way.

"You already know that I have always been yours." 

When they finally kiss, it feels like they're kissing for the first time. Type is different somehow, bolder and more insistent. He's the one who kisses first, and it takes Tharn by surprise. And it's Type who holds him protectively, who sets the pace of their kisses. Type who swipes his tongue against his lips to beg for entrance, pushing inside for that warm and soft contact. Tharn realizes that he's finally experiencing all of Type, the parts he kept restrained, the parts he was afraid to show. Tharn loves the gentle and acquiescent Type who opens so beautifully for him and takes everything he gives him. But he always wondered where Type's characteristic fire and forcefulness went when they were in bed. And now Tharn has his answer, and he can't wait to explore that part of his lover. Because now, all of it is his. His forever, because Type will never let him go. 

"And cut na khrab." 

Mew and Gulf stop kissing, but they remain wrapped around each other, breathing the same air. Mew opens his eyes to see that Gulf has been watching him. 

Gulf pulls him in and presses their foreheads together. "Take off your clothes," he whispers. Mew freezes. Is Gulf still in character? He shakes him and looks into his eyes. "Yai Nong?" 

Gulf blinks and breaks into the sweetest smile that only Gulf is capable of. "Did I just tell you to take off your clothes?" 

Mew nods, making a teasing face. "It was hot." 

Gulf's ears turn red and he tugs on Mew's shirt. "So, why aren't you following my orders na khrab?" 

Wa gni na? Mew raises his eyebrows at him. Is he serious? "Your orders? To take my clothes off?" 

Gulf sits and crosses his arms. His lips are pursed and he nods at Mew's shirt. "Deaf na, Khun Phi khrab?" 

Mew can feel a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Is Gulf seriously asking this in front of everyone? He looks around, but nobody seems affected. Are they really that bad on set that nobody cares? He squints at his co-star. "Mai. You first." 

Gulf shrugs. "Okay." He gets out of bed and walks off. Off toward the dressing room, because they have their shirtless scene next. 

Mew's an idiot. 

___________________ 

Mew is definitely an idiot. When the fuck is he going to learn? Love scene with Gulf = jerk off before work. Get it out of the system, tire it out so it doesn't wake up mid-scene. But does he learn? Fuck no. He's not hard, but he's certainly turned on. Gulf walks around set in nothing but boxers again, bare feet slapping the concrete floor. This is all too familiar. 

Objectively speaking, Gulf's body isn't that impressive. He's lean and slightly toned. Just a little around the chest, if that. Though his collar bones are beautifully defined, Mew has to give him that. Otherwise his body is quite soft looking, nothing special. Except that Mew's starting to develop a thing for soft. Soft and warm, with a cute, squishy belly. And god he remembers sneaking a bite of Gulf's tasty little tummy during the shower scene, and he has never regretted it since. But this time he won't have an opportunity for such a thing. No, he gets to spend the next hour or so in bed with shirtless Gulf, pretending to bask in the afterglow. 

The acting coach shows them where to lie on the bed. Mew has the easy position for once. One of the few benefits of being a top- cuddles mean getting to lie down like normal. It's Gulf who has the uncomfortable position this time, lying sideways across Mew's stomach with his legs bent so they don't dangle off the side of the bed. Part of him wants to laugh, remembering the hell Gulf put him through during their 45 minute kiss that was supposed to be 5 minutes. Karma's a bitch, and he should know. He's Buddhist. At this rate, he should be just fine doing this shirtless scene. Hell, he can do it as Mew. He won't have to go into Tharn mode for this. 

If there's one thing Mew doesn't want people to know, it's that he's not always immersed in his role on camera. Already there have been scenes where he's not Tharn, he's just acting. Harmless scenes like when he laughs at Type for falling out of his bed or when Type's friends are watching porn in their room. He knows this scene is much more important, but they're ahead of schedule and if it looks like shit, he can turn on the Tharn switch and play the newlywed. 

Seeing Gulf as Type is always a shock to the system. For all their similarities, the most noticeable difference is how they move. Type is nervous, jerky, and aggressive. He reminds Mew of those small and feisty Mexican dogs with the big eyes. The shaky ones that American celebrities carry in their purses. Gulf, by comparison, is more like a cat. Languid, cuddly, and grumpy. Liable to push things off the side of a table simply because it's there and because it would entertain him. In fact, he's seen Gulf do that before. 

_It was a rare occasion where they weren't glued to each other but they weren't fighting. Gulf stood by himself at the snack table, swatting at a grape and making it run into different things. A water bottle, a cup, another grape. He looked so amused by his simple game. And finally, after its novelty had worn off, he nudged the trash can so that it was right next to the table and pawed at the grape a few times before sending it rolling into the waiting garbage bin. Such a fucking kitten._

Mew plays with Gulf's hair as Type tells him how he ended things with Puifai. He's so animated and expressive as Type in a way he never is as Gulf. Mew loves that, knowing that his junior created an entire range of facial expressions and gestures for his character, completely independent of his own. It shows Gulf's artistry at its best. 

Mew looks down at him. "Will you be okay dating a gay like me?" He feels nervous, even though he isn't Tharn. Even though the answer means nothing to him. He wonders if it's the question, then. A question that Mew wants to ask Gulf, but instead hides behind his character to do it. He watches him intently to see who answers. 

It's Type who responds. "Honestly, I really don't know." 

Mew can tell from the lower tone of voice and the harsh and rigid pronunciation of his words that it's Type. Gulf would have sounded softer and lilting. His words would have had a rounder, cuter quality to them. He listens for any sign of Gulf in Type's lines, but finds none. It's so strange when only one of them is in character. How surreal it is interacting with someone who looks and feels and smells like Gulf but is not him. 

"Actually, when you returned, I was going to break it off with you." He looks at Type's round and beautiful Bambi eyes. How frightened they look and how badly Mew wants to calm those fears. "But seeing you now, I will never ever break up with you. Shocked?"

He's been playing with the soft and tiny lobe of Gulf's ear. His co-star hates his small ears, but Mew loves them. Right now, he loves how warm it feels between his fingers from the redness that matches the flush across his chest. His face remains free of that blush, with just that wide-eyed expression that renders Mew powerless. If Gulf ever knew what he could do with those eyes, how defenseless Mew is to them. Especially now. Eyes so soft and innocent that reflect a vulnerability in Type that's so beautiful it could break your heart. Lips so deliciously pouty that Mew can't wait until the end of the scene when he gets to kiss them. _Just enough for you to bite._ And here he thought he wouldn't get turned on. He feels a tightness in his chest and gut, a tug at his helpless heart that he suspects no longer belongs to him. 

"I want to hear you scream without holding back." He was right. He didn't have to be Tharn in this scene in order for it to be genuine. He finally asks the question he wishes he could ask as Mew. "Can you date this jealous type guy?" 

The response that comes is so utterly Type, and yet he can just as easily see his Yai Nong saying it, too. "I let you have your way with me. What do you think?" 

"Then, let me have my way all night long." Even now, after all this, it's still a question, still a request. 

"Suit yourself." 

Mew bends down to kiss Type. He all but melts and dissolves as he makes contact with those soft lips. Lips that have such control over him. 

"Cut na khrab. Lighting reset." 

Gulf pulls away immediately. Mew feels the abruptness of it and straightens back up. 

His co-star looks worried. "Khun Phi khrab?" 

"Hm?" 

"You were yourself in that scene, weren't you?" He looks hurt when he asks. 

Mew nods and rubs his arm. "I'm sorry. I wanted to see what would happen. You could tell that easily?" He chuckles, hoping to lighten the mood. "Is Khun Phi's acting that bad?" 

Gulf smiles and shakes his head. "I don't think an audience would notice." 

"But Yai Nong did?" Trust that his co-star could tell the difference. After all, he can always tell between Gulf and Type. 

Gulf nods. "I was Type in that scene. And he didn't recognize you. He knew you didn't belong to him." 

Mew wonders if it's his turn to flush red, to mirror the beautiful blush of his junior. "And who do I belong to?" 

Gulf smiles and shrugs. "Depends on the kind of man Khun Phi is. Some people belong to others, some give themselves away." He tilts his chin up at him, daring him to respond. "Which one are you na khrab?" 

But Mew doesn't feel like playing anymore. He feels cold all of a sudden, despite the warmth of Gulf's body on top of him. He can hear a voice in his head, one he hasn't heard in a while, and yet still so familiar. _I lost you because you gave yourself away. You gave too much of yourself, and now I don't know who you are anymore._

"Khun Phi? Khun Phi khrab?" 

Mew doesn't want to remember that voice. He doesn't want to remember that conversation or day or even that person. But he fears he will carry all of those with him forever. _His_ face flashes in his mind. And it scares him how sharp the image still is. No fading whatsoever. Not even a ghost, just a person who's still haunting him. 

"Khun Phi khrab?" Gulf reaches under the covers and grabs his hand. "...Mew?" 

He blinks. "Gulf?" He looks at him and there again is that expression, so similar to Type with his soft and innocent eyes, made even lovelier by the addition of Gulf's insatiable curiosity. The expression that could undo him. He squeezes his hand and smiles. Perhaps the expression that could save him too. 

"I'm sorry na, Yai Nong." He rubs his hand with his thumb. "I won't do it again. I'll be Tharn this time. Tharn goes with Type and I go with you." 

The blush renews itself on Gulf's skin and god, it sends Mew's blood racing. Gulf's smile and laugh seem to clear the shadows, keeping Mew fixed in the present. Keeping him safe from the things that haunt him. 

"Careful na, Khun Phi…" Gulf snuggles against his stomach. Not enough to screw up their placement for the next take, just enough to be playful. "Or you'll make me fall for you." 


	24. The Game

Mew doesn't know why Gulf reminds him of old love songs. Some of them are older than himself. They're simple songs, nothing fancy like the overproduced stuff these days. Just pretty melodies, and yet how easily they tug at his heartstrings. 

Ever since the bed scenes, Mew hasn't stopped wondering about him and Gulf. About whether there's something between them. Whether there could ever be a _them_. It seems so far fetched, and yet Mew is willing to try. That's something, isn't it? He’s prepared to tackle the questions that have stood in his way. Has Gulf moved on from his break-up? Is Gulf ready to start seeing someone? Is Gulf interested in Mew? Does the age difference bother him? And of course the most important question: Does Gulf even like men? 

They're waiting for lighting and sound to set up. Mew is singing again. He doesn't even remember the name of the song, just that it's about being too shy to confess your love, so you show it in other ways. Okay, so he has an idea of why the songs remind him of Gulf. 

He doesn't know why he does it, though. Maybe because Gulf looks so beautiful in the half-lit hallway, with the shadows softening his features. Maybe it's because Gulf put on Tharn's shirt by accident this morning, so now Mew can detect that crisp shampoo smell all over him. And god, he would love to spend all day with Gulf's scent clinging to him. Or maybe it's because of the way Gulf is standing, hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for someone to ask him to dance. And so Mew does it. 

He reaches for Gulf's hand and tugs, pulling him close as he continues to sing. His junior doesn't even look surprised. He just smiles, as if he were waiting for Mew to touch him. How he wishes that were true. All it takes is him placing Gulf's hand on his shoulder and his nong is already moving his feet, already leaning in to hear his singing. Mew is reminded of their chemistry, their bond, whatever people want to call it. The synchronicity of their working relationship. Mew may be in the leading position, but it's Gulf who controls the dance. He's not even sure if Gulf realizes it, just as Gulf doesn't realize the power he holds over him. Probably best that way. 

He looks at his Yai Nong. Gulf's eyes seem to hint at something, but he doesn't know what. One day he'll know. For now, Mew feels compelled to speak, to move forward with his endeavor to be with him. He pauses in his singing. What should he say? 

"Oooooyyyy!" Says one of the crew members. He's followed by several wolf whistles. 

Mew rolls his eyes. It's not like he could think of anything anyway. He turns to them and shakes his head. "Quit interrupting. Can't you see I'm trying to seduce Nong Stress Ball?" He laughs along with them. 

"Will you give in to hubby?" Someone asks Gulf. At least someone has the guts to bring it up. 

His junior shakes his head. Mew tries not to frown. At least he won't have to waste his time now. He starts to look away, but then he sees him smile. 

"Khun Phi has to try harder to earn me khrab," says Gulf. 

More howls, more cheering. Mew’s face grows warm and he knows his cheeks are red. He's laughing out of shock. His nong never ceases to surprise. 

Another crew member waves at him. "What's your plan now, P'Mew?" He's still getting used to older crew members calling him P'Mew. Everyone on set calls him whatever Gulf calls him, including Khun Phi. 

Mew holds a finger to his lips. "Shh! I don't have one!" At least he can still make jokes. He looks into Gulf's eyes, and he can't imagine his junior looking more lovely than in this moment. "How does Yai Nong want to be wooed?" He isn't sure if he's joking anymore. 

Gulf looks up in thought. Is he actually thinking about it? He smiles and looks back at his senior. "Khun Phi should know things about me, like what I like to eat." 

Noted. Mew already knows some of that stuff. 

"Nong likes to eat P'Mew!" Someone shouts. 

Mew gives him a dirty look. Nobody talks to his Yai Nong like that. The crew member makes an apologetic Wai, but Gulf is actually laughing. 

"Khun Phi has to earn that, too," says Gulf. 

Wa ngi na? Mew's eyes are wide as he looks around. Gulf is laughing so hard that his eyes are watering. He stops and clears his throat. "But! But. Phi should encourage me to try new things, not just what I already like."

Mew can't help but smile. His introverted nong wants to be adventurous. Will he ever stop admiring him? "Anything else?" 

Gulf's smile is somehow both bold yet shy. A smile that only his Yai Nong would be capable of. It's so utterly Gulf that Mew is captivated. "Phi should like to cuddle and hold me.”

Mew is going to marry him. He's going to marry him and feed him all his favorite foods and take him all over the world to try new things and then fall asleep with him in his arms. It's settled. 

"Ah…" he gives Gulf a mischievous look. "Have my cuddles not been enough for Yai Nong?" He already worried he was getting too handsy with him. Could he possibly want more? Because Mew can give more. God, he could give so much more. 

He can't read the way his junior is looking at him. Gulf is smiling, but he doesn't know what it means. It's familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. "It's not enough for me," Gulf recites. 

Just when Mew thinks he can't possibly be more smitten with his Yai Nong, he does this. Something both unexpected and clever. He quotes Tharn back at him. His line after Type's small kiss (all 3-5 seconds of it). _It's not enough for me_. And Mew couldn't relate more. Every touch and embrace just leaves him wanting more. 

The crew members laugh. "P'Mew, your wifey's using your own lines against you." Someone says. "He's more clever than you are." 

How true. Mew brushes some stray hairs from Gulf's forehead. "That's why I'm pursuing him." 

"Be careful," Gulf warns, "or you'll make me fall for you." 

Mew shrugs. "Apparently, that's the plan." 

________________________ 

_Mew stared at the guy across the room. Messy hair, round and beautiful eyes, and lips that… he shook his head. This was not the place to be scoping out men. It was his first time at a college party and he didn't want to cause trouble. Mew wasn't even a college student. His older friend, P'Book, was a freshman and invited him under one condition: "Don't hit on my seniors."_

_Mew had to smile at himself. Was he that much of a flirt that Book had to make such a comment? He thought about the guys from school. He hadn't kissed too many of them. Besides, how many was too many?_

_He walked away from the handsome senior in search of P'Book. He would throw in his face how well behaved he was that he didn't hit on the ridiculously handsome guy with lips that… anyway. Mew leaned against a wall and closed his eyes. How long had it been since he'd kissed anyone?_

_His friends called him a horny bastard but they had it wrong. Mew wasn't all about the sexual gratification (although he had recently discovered just how amazing 2nd base was). He liked the romance of it. He liked the flirting and the butterflies. He liked the eye contact and the soft touches. He especially liked making other boys blush. And he'd certainly never flirted with a college boy before._

_"Wadee." Hey._

_Mew opened his eyes. The handsome senior was standing in front of him. His full lips were pursed in a smirk. Mew stared at those lips, wondering what they would feel like against his own. "Sawadee-khrab." He made Wai._

_"So polite," he said. "Are you a freshman?"_

_Mew shook his head. "I, uh, came with my friend." He looked around for Book, but couldn't find him._

_His phi eyed him up and down. "You're telling me you're a highschooler?"_

_Mew nodded. He liked the way his phi looked at him. He liked how close he was standing. "A senior."_

_"A cute senior."_

_Mew had to turn away to hide his smile. "Khap khun khrab."_ Thank you _. He wasn't supposed to be flirting. "Phi is very handsome." Oops._

_"Bank," he told him. He pulled out his phone and pressed it against Mew's chest. "Can I have your LINE info?"_

_Mew looked back at his senior. Technically, he didn't hit on P'Bank. Technically, Book couldn't be mad at him. Technically, he could do what he wanted. He smiled and covered his senior's hand with his own. He loved how much bigger his was than his phi's, and he stroked it with his fingers. His sudden boldness surprised P'Bank, and the fire in his eyes told him it was a good surprise._

_"Just my number?" Mew asked. He stepped away from the wall and towered over him. "It's not useful until I'm gone. What does Phi want from me right now?"_

_His senior raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. I thought you were shy, but I was wrong." He took his phone back. "I think it's you who should be asking for my number. But what do you want from me right now?"_

_Mew leaned down to whisper in P'Bank's ear. "I want to taste your lips."_

_"Come upstairs with me."_

________________________ 

Mild scoops himself another spoonful of ice cream. "Okay, okay na… if you could sleep with any BL star- besides Gulf!- who would you pick?" 

Mew makes a face. He hates these kinds of questions. Mild always makes fun of his answers. "I don't want to play." 

"Yes, you do." 

"Who do you pick, then?" 

Mild licks the ice cream scooper before tossing it into the sink. "Mmm… Mond Thanuchai." 

"Predictable." 

"Ow!" Mild clutches at his heart. "Let's see you do better!"

Mew takes a bite of his ice cream. He and Mild haven't played this game in so long he's forgotten his old answers. Who the hell would he pick? "Krist Perawat." He's always had a cute face. 

Mild groans. "Of course. Round eyes. Small, pouty lips. Lame. Give me something unexpected!" 

"You first!" 

Mild slaps the kitchen counter. "Off Jumpol!" 

Alai wa? Mew looks at him. "You'd sleep with Off?" 

"Again? Yeah, sure." 

Wa ngi na? Did he just say again? Mew drops his spoon. "What do you mean again?" 

"He's very gentle." 

"I can't unhear this." Mew rinses his spoon in the sink. "Does Gun know?" 

His junior laughs. "I hope so," he pours chocolate syrup over his ice cream. "Cus he was there, too." 

Mew drops his spoon again. "For fuck's sake, Mild." He decides to leave the spoon there.. "You can't just say shit like that. You're joking, right?" Right? Mew can't really interpret his smile. And that's what scares him. 

Mild shrugs. "I mean…" 

He senses bullshit. "Okay so, who's got the bigger-" 

"Gun does." 

Mew laughs so hard his eyes are watering. He grabs a new spoon and shoves a huge scoop of ice cream in his mouth. He hates himself for having asked. It's a good thing they don't travel in the same circles. He rarely interacts with the GMMTV actors. 

Mild walks over and lays his head on Mew's shoulder. "Your turn. Make it a good one na." 

He sighs and chews on his ice cream because there's so much of it in his mouth. Why does he always take such big bites? "Um…" he gives Mild a sideways glance. "Victor Chatchawit." 

His junior looks impressed. "Oooooyyyy! Victor! He's very handsome." 

Mew rolls his eyes. "Okay na, you've had your fun. Let's watch anime." 

"Wait, wait!" Mild helps himself to Mew's ice cream. "Who would you pick for me?" 

"Alai?" 

His junior nods. "Who would you ship me with?" 

For crying out… Mew laughs and takes some of Mild's ice cream. "Why are you so thirsty lately?" 

"Probably cus of the two jackasses who keep dry humping on set…" 

Mew chokes on his ice cream. Mild pats his back and speaks baby talk to him. He struggles to laugh and breathe and swallow at the same time. He grabs his forehead to soothe his brain freeze.

"Am I your child na?" 

"Yes." Mild stands on his toes and kisses his forehead. "You're my child, but you're Gulf's baby." He giggles and ducks in time to miss Mew's playful swat. 

"Come on na, Pa khrab," says Mew, making Wai. "Let's watch some anime na khrab, dearest respected father." 

They lean against each other on the couch, sitting cross legged and eating ice cream. Mew feels like he's 15 again, having a friend spend the night, eating junk food, watching anime, and talking about cute boys. 

"So, you gonna go for it or what?" Asks Mild. 

"Huh?" 

"The pretty one," he says, jabbing his cheek with his spoon. "You're gonna do some flirty flirty, some kissy kissy, some oh yes Khun Phi, yes, right there yes don't stop, I'm gonna…" He flicks a bit of ice cream onto Mew's face, leaving a white splatter on his skin. 

Mew would punch him if he weren't laughing so hard. He wipes the ice cream from his cheek and licks it off his fingers. "Yeah, something like that," he says between laughs. 

"So, he's definitely into men?" 

Mew stops laughing. Oh, right. "Well…" 

"You still don't know?" 

"How would I?" 

"I don't know, show him a picture of Singto?" 

Mew throws a hand up. "What is his thing with Singto?" 

"I mean, have you seen him?" Mild looks at the ceiling and sighs. "He's a masterpiece." 

Mew sinks into the sofa cushions. "I'm pretty good, too," he pouts. Didn't P'Pee say he was everyone's taste? 

"Aaaaaawwww, baby!" Mild throws an arm around his shoulder and shakes him. "I'm sure Gulf finds you… not bad looking." He yelps and tries to scramble off the couch before Mew can tickle him. 

"Wa ngi na?" Mew manages to get a few pokes to Mild's waist before he's up and gone. His junior giggles all the way to the kitchen and stops at the doorway. "Can we order pizza?" 

It's halfway through the second pizza that Mild drops his slice and gasps. "Phi!" 

Mew looks up, his cheeks stuffed with the gigantic bite he just took. "Mrhph?" 

Mild gives him a look. "Do you always have to eat like an orangutan?" He sighs and shakes his head. "Anyway, I know how to find out!" 

Mew's still working on his pizza. He stares at Mild as he continues to chew.

"I'll just play the game with him!" He laughs at Mew's wide eyed expression. "It's so simple! I'll ask which BL star he would pick to work with… then do a love scene with… then kiss in real life… then- it's a gradual progression!" 

Mew finally swallows. "What's the point of this?" 

"Well, how many BL stars can a straight boy know?" 

"Lots, if he works in BL." 

Mild makes a noise. "Okay, fine." He picks his pizza back up. "I'll just gossip about you and see how he reacts." 

Mew groans. "Okay, play the game with him na." 

"Yesss…" 

________________________ 

For fuck's sake. Mew looks down at the bag in Gulf's hands. "Alai wa?" What the hell? 

Gulf looks at the pork rind in his hand. "Huh?" It takes him a second to realize. "Ah, Shia… I forgot na, Khun Phi." 

Mew closes his eyes. He can already taste the salty grease flavor of fried pork skin in his mouth. He can remember a kiss from long ago, a night he came home and there was his lover, stuffing his face with those god awful pork rinds. And how he had kissed him anyway. Kissed him because he had wanted him that much. 

His chest is constricting, and he fights down a wave of nausea. "Gulf…" he sits down and takes a few deep breaths. 

"Khun Phi?" Gulf's hand is on his back, light and warm. 

Mew can feel the anger rising in his gut, can feel it spreading through his veins. "I asked you one thing, damnit." His hands are forming into fists. 

"I forgot." 

He gives him a bitter laugh. "You forgot? It's not that hard to remember, Gulf." His voice has an audible edge to it. He wants Gulf to realize what he's done, but he knows if they keep talking, things will escalate. 

"I said I forgot, okay?" Gulf crunches up the bag and throws it in the trash. "There, happy na? It was an accident." He mumbles something under his breath. For once, Mew can't hear him. 

"What did you say?" He growls. If his junior is being quiet, it must be something worth hiding. 

Gulf looks at him, eyebrows brought together in irritation. A little closer and he would look like Type. "I said it was an accident and you should get over it. I'll chew some gum if it's that big of a deal." 

"It IS that big of a deal." Mew stands and glares at him, rage washing over his body. "What part of please don't eat pork rinds before kissing scenes is so hard to understand?" 

Gulf takes a deep breath, stepping closer, asserting his height for once. "What part of it was an accident is so hard to understand?" 

"I don't want to taste pork grease when I kiss you!" 

"What do you want, then?" Gulf shouts. "Does Khun Phi want pineapple? Strawberry? Should I put together a menu?" 

Mew gets in his face, his skin tingling and on fire. "I don't want to taste grease, and I don't want to taste the fucking produce aisle, damnit! I just want to taste you!" 

They stare at each other, Mew's words hanging in the air between them in what little space remains. Close. He and Gulf are always so close. 

Gulf takes a step back. His eyes stay fierce, but in a different way. A way that Mew has only seen as Type. It's the way he looks at Tharn in those moments of inner conflict, when Type is confronted by his feelings. What is Gulf thinking about right now? 

"I'm sorry," he says to Mew. His eyes scan the room and he shifts his weight awkwardly. "I'll see if P'Pee has another toothbrush." He walks off and the tightness in Mew’s chest increase. He's not sure what just happened. He's not sure how he feels about it. 

When Gulf returns from the restroom, he has a guarded expression on his face. He walks up to Mew and in the most Type way ever, he tells him, "I brushed three times na. Teeth and tongue. I hope you're happy." 

Mew softens his eyes. His anger is gone, and all he sees before him is the most beautiful person imaginable. The most beautiful, and the cutest. He can't help but laugh at Gulf's indignant expression. "Did you really?" 

His junior rolls his eyes. "Khrab." He leans forward and grins. "Does Khun Phi want to check for himself?" 

Something short circuits in Mew's brain. Something is failing to compute. Something is telling him that Gulf is flirting, but that can't be possible because… well, there is no because. 

There is no because. 

Mew moves even closer, challenging his junior to back away, if he dares. His eyes devour Gulf's lips and his gaze intensifies. He tells himself that if Gulf backs off, he'll give it all up. He'll keep his distance and maintain his boundaries. But if Gulf stays here, if he withstands the intensity, well… that's worth pursuing, isn't it? 

"Is that what you want?" He asks his junior. 

Gulf moves after all. A centimeter, perhaps. A centimeter, but not away from him. He moves closer. Because he and Gulf are always so close. 

"Did Khun Phi forget na?" Gulf's eyes roam his face, looking for something. "I already told you what I want." 

"Alai?" He locks onto his eyes and holds him there, trying to discern what his junior is telling him. He's not there yet, though. He's not at the level where he can communicate with him wordlessly. Not fluently, anyway. But god, how he wants to be. 

Gulf licks his lips. "During workshop. You asked me what I wanted from you."

It feels so long ago. Mew can't remember what he's talking about. He was in such bad shape at the time, he only remembers scattered fragments. Gulf kissing him for real. Mild lying on his chest. Kok tugging at Gulf's legs. Gulf dragging him to sleep on the fake bed. Staring into Gulf's eyes for eight minutes. But nothing about what Gulf wants… 

"Ooooooyyyy!" Says a staff member. "Are we all the air? Look how they don't even notice us!" 

Mew blinks. His co-star looks different now. Smiling. Amused. Like he just told him something special, but Mew can't remember. 

Gulf closes the final bit of distance and boops their noses together. "Maybe Khun Phi should count chairs to spark his memory." He smiles and walks off. 

Mew stands there, speechless. Motionless. Clueless. What just happened? He watches Gulf leave, and damnit, he checks out his ass. It's tiny but so, so cute. 

He passes some chairs on the way to the set. One, two, three… he wonders what the point of it is. Why would anyone have to count… chairs. Mew stops in his tracks, causing a small pileup behind him. 

"Sorry na khrab. Sorry khrab pom." He makes Wai to the people behind him. He steps to the side to catch his breath. 

Empty conference rooms. Him and Gulf walking hand in hand, counting chairs and forgetting to keep track. Gulf asking for a reward if they could get through their skinship exercises in one day. An order from his bruised and damaged heart. A reply that made it beat again. 

_"Tell me what you want from me."_

_"Everything."_

___________________ 

Mew missed his nap. He had a pocket of time between scenes 3 and 5, but he ended up chatting with P'Pee, as always. Now they're at scene 7 of 15 and he's fucking dragging. It's the last day they're shooting in the dorms. Tharn and Type are packing up and bidding goodbye to their seniors. They just started filming the Khlui and Seo scene, but there's been a delay on some equipment. Mew is desperate for a cat nap. 

"And so they threw it out the window!" Says one of the staff members. 

Mew laughs uproariously, not having a single clue what the story was about. He holds his stomach and wipes the fake tears from his eyes. "Oh, Phi, you're killing me!" He makes Wai. "Excuse me na, Phi. I'm going to rest before my next scene." 

He wanders around the dormitory hallway, running his hand along the wall to say goodbye. His feet take him to the most familiar place of all, the room where Tharn and Type shared so much of themselves. Where they fell in love. He spots Gulf on Tharn's bed, playing on his phone. He stands in the doorway, just watching him, taking in the sight of his serious gaming face and his beautiful features lit by the screen's illumination. He can't stand it anymore, watching his soft and cuddly nong lounging on the bed like that. He has to be in his arms, has to feel his warmth and softness around him. After all, Gulf wanted him to cuddle more, didn't he? 

He shuffles over to him. "Phi is sleepy," he murmurs. His junior has an amused smile on his face as he crawls into bed. "Cuddle with me?"

Gulf doesn't hesitate. He opens his arms, almost as if he knows, just knows that's where Mew wants to be. He smiles and curls against his chest, rubbing little circles on his tummy. What he wouldn't give to fall asleep every night rubbing this tummy, feeling how squishy and soft it is. Gulf's arms tighten around him and he snuggles closer. He remembers how he wanted to feel taken care of every now and then, to be the one who's held. His hand continues to rub at Gulf's belly as he slowly slips from consciousness. 

_It had to have been an old video. It couldn't be recent, because his boyfriend would never do such a thing. P'Bank was too good to cheat on him. P'Bank loved him. He texted his friend back._

_**New** _

_Where did you get this video?_

_**Boom** _

_Took it last night at the bar_

_** New ** _

_He wasn't at the bar last night. He said he was working on a class project_

_**Boom** _

_I'm just sharing what I saw, New_

_**New** _

_You're not lying, right? This is from last night?_

_**Boom** _

_How long have we been friends na? What benefit would I get from this? He's the one who lies to you_

_**New** _

_You're right. Sorry na khrab. I just… I wish it wasn't true. Thanks na for looking out for me_

_** Boom  ** _

**__** _You know I have your back_

_Mew watched the video again. The quality of it was too clear and too sharp to mistake anything. It was P'Bank at the bar, seated at a back table with another guy. He talked to him and laughed, then they held hands on the tabletop. And finally P'Bank leaned over and kissed him. Kissed him as if it were natural and normal. As if he had kissed this guy many times already._

_Mew felt the tears building up in his eyes, felt the tightness at his chest from holding in his emotions. How could this be happening? Hadn't P'Bank told him he loved him? They had just made love last night, and P'Bank had said to him._

_"Fuck, New, you're so good. You're so good, baby. I could fall in love with you…"_

_Could. That was the word he had missed._

_He decided he would give P'Bank a chance to explain himself. Maybe there was an explanation that Mew hadn't anticipated. Because even if Bank didn't love him, he was still too good to cheat on him. His boyfriend would never do such a thing._

_Except he had. For a while. On the day he confronted him, P'Bank didn't even try to deny it. He held Mew's hands and confessed everything. He cried and told him he was sorry. He never wanted to hurt him._

_Mew stared at Bank's face all red and splotchy. "I forgive you, Phi." He kissed his hands and pressed them to his cheeks. "I won't leave you. Just tell me why you did it na."_

_P'Bank was a mess. He sobbed the whole time, shaking his head when Mew told him he forgave him. "New… baby." He pulled his hands back and covered his face. "New, I want to break up. I need to be with someone my own age. I'm sorry."_

_Mew sat there frozen. What was he hearing? P'Bank wanted to break up? He wanted someone his own age? He forgave him and yet it was still over? He felt hot tears run down his cheeks. One day he would learn how to keep his tears from falling so easily. He closed his hands and they became fists. The overwhelming sadness washed over him and hardened his heart. His eyes turned to fire and his tears dried up. He looked at P'Bank and saw him as a different man. A weak man. A selfish man. A man unworthy of his love._

_He stood up from the couch. "Why couldn't you have talked to me about this?"_

_"I know," said P'Bank. "I'm sorry."_

_"That's not an answer."_

_"I never meant to hurt you, New."_

_"How hard is it to talk to your boyfriend?"_

_"I know. I just-"_

_Mew glared at him. "I'm done with your excuses."_

_"I didn't mean for things to go that far with him. It's just… he's 22 and we just… connected."_

_Connected. Mew must have been an idiot, because he thought he and P'Bank had connected. He thought they had something special. And when he asked if the age difference bothered him, he thought Bank had been honest._

_"What couldn't I do?" He asked his senior. "What does his age give him that I don't have?" He regretted the question as soon as he asked it._

_P'Bank only shook his head. "It's complicated. You'll understand when…"_

_Mew took a step back. He grabbed his wallet and phone from the coffee table and shoved them in his pocket. "I'll understand when I'm older?" He walked to the door and put on his shoes. P'Bank let him, and that was the worst part. He didn't want him back. He didn't want him at all. He turned to face his now ex boyfriend. He hated Bank for making him love him. For making him feel like an adult and then tossing him aside like a child. He said the only thing his hurt and hot tempered heart could think of._

_"Fuck you, pervert." And he slammed the door behind him._

"Khun Phi khrab?" Someone is shaking his arm. Mew groans and burrows into the warmth around him. It's soft and squishy and smells like shampoo. It reminds him of something he wants, something that makes him happy. And right now he needs that. He needs this warmth to banish the memories of his first heartbreak. 

"P'Mew?" 

He hears a voice that makes him want to smile. It sounds ducky but slightly babyish. A cute voice that tries to sound sweet but is just off the mark. He squeezes the softness in his arms, willing the pain in his chest to lessen. He wants to hear that voice again. 

"P'Mew khrab?" 

He opens his eyes. The image of P'Bank's apartment fades from his mind's eye. He looks around, disoriented and sweating. He glances at the warm and soft thing in his arms and realizes that it's Gulf. 

"Khor thot…" _I'm sorry._ He grumbles and releases him. The sudden cold air makes him shiver. 

"You were talking in your sleep again," says Gulf. "Something about an age difference." He looks disappointed. Does he think Mew's talking about him? 

Mew runs a hand through his hair. He yawns and stretches, lying back on the pillows. "My ex was 21 and I was 18." 

Gulf raises his eyebrows and nods his slow and exaggerated nod. "I thought you would be the older one." 

Mew laughs and closes his eyes. "I wasn't always this old, you know." 

Gulf repositions himself on the bed. Their legs end up touching, but he doesn't move away. "Not like there's anything wrong with older," he says. There's a hint in his voice, but Mew's too sleepy to understand it. 

"It was a problem for my ex." Mew's careful of using gendered pronouns. "I was cheated on."

His junior looks angry. "Asshole. Could've at least talked to you." 

Mew nods. He notices how Gulf skirts around pronouns, too. 

A staff member pokes their head in the doorway. "Ready na khrab." 

They walk next door toward Seo and Khlui's room for the scene where they say goodbye. Gulf nudges him with his elbow. "Phi?" 

"Hm?" 

"Sorry you still dream about your ex. If you ask me, he didn't deserve you." He gives Mew a sad smile and walks to his mark. 

_He_. Gulf, quite confidently, had used the masculine pronoun. Mew stands rooted to his spot. He can't move. Or he won't move. He stares at Gulf, who's avoiding his eye contact. How long has Gulf known?

_________________________ 

**Mild**

Results are in! 

** Mew  **

You actually played the game with him? 

**Mild**

Hey, you said I could. 

**Mew**

And I'm starting to regret it. 

**Mild**

Oh, you won't. Trust me. 

Behold: who would Gulf want to... 

Work with- Saint Suppapong bc he seems nice 

Love scene with- Mek Jirakit bc he's handsome and they would look good in series together (said not Singto bc they would look weird together) (pointed out Mek isn't BL star but he said it counts bc of Dark Blue Kiss) 

Kiss in real life- Khun Phi bc wants to compare to Tharn 

Mew stares at his screen. How is he supposed to take this? Is it good? Is it predictable? Is it bad? Gulf wants to kiss him in real life. But it's out of curiosity. He wants to compare the flawed and damaged Mew to Tharn the sex god. Great. 

___________________ 

P'Tee takes them all out to dinner. The other cast members have saved a seat for Gulf next to Mew. _Next to hubby_ , they all said. Mew doesn't mind in the least. P'Tee has ordered a little of everything from the menu and they all help themselves. As Mew expected, his co-star is timid when it comes to grabbing dishes. All of them seem to get passed around his junior, and only sometimes to him out of politeness. Mew has eyes on two plates in particular. He looks at Run and Pee across the table. Pee is pretending to scoop crispy pork krapow onto his plate, but he's really only pushing the food around with the serving spoon. Mew asked them to run interference so they wouldn't run out of Gulf's favorites. Pee hands him the krapow while Run reaches for the pad see eiw. 

Mew can't help but smile as he sees Gulf's thinly disguised disappointment. He's such a baby at times. 

"Did you think I didn't know?" Mew asks him. He serves the last of the laab onto Gulf's plate. "Yai Nong's favorites are crispy pork krapow and pad see eiw." 

Mew takes the pad see eiw from Run and serves that, too. Oooohs erupt from the cast and crew. Mew isn't sure why he feels shy. How often does the staff and crew tease them for their skinship and flirting? He supposes it's different now that it's real- for him, anyway. Before it was mostly work and partially sustenance. A way to keep his heart beating. And with Gulf, it's often racing. But now, well, it's one of his three requirements, isn't it? Can Gulf tell how bashful he feels as he blatantly completes one of his tasks? 

"Yai Nong," calls one of the crew members. "Has P'Mew earned your love yet?" 

Gulf laughs and avoids Mew's eyes. "Not yet, khrab," he shouts back. "He hasn't fulfilled all the requirements." 

Mew rolls his eyes. How the fuck is he supposed to encourage him to try new things? Every hour of their day is scheduled and controlled. 

Mild nudges him. "Quit wasting time! There are only a few weeks left of filming." He leans in closer. "I've got 1000 baht on the line that you and Yai Nong get together before we air." 

Mew gives him a look. He knows there's no bet. So, why is Mild making shit up? Gulf leans forward to look at Mild. "You're betting on us? You've actually become Techno." 

Mild laughs and shrugs. "Aow! What can I say? You started a trend!" 

Mew thinks about those words for the rest of dinner. Is Mild right? Is it possible that Gulf only acts this way because he's been spending so much time as Type? All the love scenes and the closeness and the flirting. The damn skinship. What if Gulf is conflating Type's feelings for his own? 

People linger after dinner. They stand on the sidewalk chatting, joking, taking selfies. Mew tries to stand near Gulf, but somehow a crowd of people forms around him, and Gulf looks further and further away. He stares at him now, noting the soft and far away look on his face. Where does his Yai Nong go in moments like this? 

Run grabs Gulf to join a group picture. Despite his height, he looks small. Mew doesn't waste any time. He reaches for Gulf's arms and wraps them around his waist. 

"It looks like Nong could use his own stress ball," he says over his shoulder. Almost immediately, he feels Gulf rest his cheek on his back, and the arms around his waist tighten. Mew wants to believe it's Gulf who does these things. Gulf, and not Type. Because Mew knows how Type feels. Hasn't he discussed it at length with his junior? But Mew never knows how Gulf feels, and whether those emotions are separate from their characters. Mew closes his eyes, willing himself to remember the feeling of Gulf holding him. Even if it's Type, Mew will accept the touch. 


	25. Hidden Sun: Anchor

Mew wakes with a startle. His head jerks forward, and several voices in the van exclaim. 

"Sorry na khrab!" Says the driver. "Pothole." 

They've been traveling for hours, making their way to the ferry that will take them to Samet Island. Mew looks over at his co-star. He could have sworn he was leaning his head on Gulf's shoulder when they left, but somehow he ended up on the other side of the back seat. His junior now sits alone, squished against the window, his pink and blue Suankularb Wittayalai School pillow in his lap.

"Yai Nong?" He moves closer to him. "You okay na?" 

Gulf nods and continues to look out the window. "Khrab." After a moment, he sighs and asks, "Is Khun Phi okay?" 

"Yes…" he tries to decipher his junior's expression, but it's guarded. "Did I do something in my sleep?" 

His co-star is silent for a second, his eyes still staring out the window. "Talked a little." 

Great. What did he say now? Seems like sleeping Mew keeps getting conscious Mew in trouble. He can't even remember what he was dreaming about. More P'Bank? Fasai? ...someone else?

"What did I say?" He has a feeling he's not going to like what he hears. 

Gulf looks down and plays with the ruffles on his pillow. "Just a name," he answers. His voice is soft and sad. "The name you won't let anyone say." 

Shia. Mew sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Why do his exes keep haunting him whenever he's asleep around Gulf? It's like some terrible curse. He keeps wondering when the others will pop up. And why hasn't Fasai made an appearance yet? Theirs was at least a good breakup. Then he might not hurt Gulf's feelings if he talked to her in his sleep. He would just be talking to a friend. If any more of the others came up… well, he may never get to sleep around Gulf again. 

He looks at his junior, who appears so tiny against the van window. He reaches out and touches his arm. "I'm sorry," he says. "If I had my way, I would never dream about him again." 

Gulf shrugs. "Your problem, not mine." Mew doubts that's the case.

He tilts his head to look at him. "It's my problem if it bothers you." He rubs his arm. "They're not good dreams, Gulf."

His nong finally turns to face him. His eyes are neither cold nor fiery. Steely, perhaps. Hard. "Sometimes they sound like it."

Mew shakes his head. "They're not wishful thinking. They're memories I wish I could forget." He reaches down for Gulf's hand. "I'm sorry it keeps happening around you." 

"What do I care?" He looks away again, but his hand is still clasped in Mew's. That's a good sign, right? As is the fact that Gulf might be… jealous? 

Mew scoots closer, feeling slightly more confident. "Would Yai Nong prefer if I dreamed about him instead?" 

The pinkish blush that appears at Gulf's ears tells him yes. "No," says his junior. "Not if they're bad dreams." 

Mew squeezes his hand. "If Yai Nong is in them, they would be good." He ventures closer, nudging Gulf's shoulder with his forehead. "Will you visit me in my dreams?" 

Gulf sighs and shrugs Mew off of him. "I don't want to fight your ghosts." He scoots Mew further and further from him until he's leaning back against the other window. Mew looks away, taking the hint. That is, until he feels the soft weight of the pink and blue Suankularb Wittayalai pillow against his chest, followed by the heft of Gulf's body against his. 

He pulls Mew's arms around him, looking up with the sternest Bambi eyes Mew has ever seen, and tells him in the grumpiest, duckiest, babiest voice, "If Khun Phi wants to see me, he needs to visit in my dreams instead." And without waiting for a response from his senior, Gulf closes his eyes and snuggles in for a nap.

Mew has no words. He looks down at his co-star, shaken once more at his boldness. In all his life he never imagined knowing someone like him. He's reminded of the day at workshop, when Grumpy Gulf dragged him to the blanket bed and made Mew his personal pillow. How Gulf did that several times during workshop. He wants to believe there's an element of possessiveness to this behavior, that Gulf is claiming him, and Mew is all too willing to belong to his Yai Nong. His junior squirms and snuggles closer, eyebrows furrowed for just a moment before smoothing out once more. His heart races just knowing Gulf is asleep in his arms. Will he ever get used to this feeling? How badly he wants to join him in his dreams, where it's safe and warm and his past can't follow. But he doesn't trust himself to be asleep around Gulf anymore. Not until he can banish these ghosts. 

_________________

It's Grumpy Gulf who arrives at the pier with them. He sits up when the van stops, looking around with bleary eyes and an expression that could kill. Mew forgets that others don't see this Gulf that often, and he's startled by their frightened expressions as the van pulls up to the pier. Mew nods his head at everyone and mouths, _just talk to him_ . 

P'Vikki is the only one brave enough, and she takes the camera and greets Gulf as he steps out of the van. To everyone's surprise, he smiles and engages in conversation. But as soon as the camera moves away, the smile vanishes from Gulf's face, and the murderous expression takes over again. All eyes turn to Mew, as if he's responsible for this change.

Run walks up behind him. "P'Mew, is he okay na?" 

"Hm?" He looks at Gulf, then back at Run. "Yeah. Remember how Gulf was in the morning during workshop?" 

A look of recognition washes over Run's face. "Shia. He's back." He rushes off to warn the others. In a matter of five minutes, everyone in their traveling party has been alerted that Grumpy Gulf is in the vicinity. 

Run returns with the camera. "What now, boss?" 

Mew looks around. "Who, me? It's your vlog."

Run looks apprehensive. "Khrab, but… you answer to the pretty one." 

Alai wa? He answers to the pretty one? Is that how he's referred to these days? Mew, the one who answers to the pretty one? He closes his eyes and shakes his head. How fucking true. 

"Interview the others," he tells Run, opening his eyes. "Give Gulf maybe 20 minutes to wake up. I'll try to get some food in him. He should be good by then." 

Run nods. "What do I do if he talks to me?" 

Mew laughs and ruffles his hair. "He's not going to bite! He's just sleepy. He only looks mean, but he isn't. Watch." He cranes his neck to look over at Gulf. "Yai Nong!" 

Every head in the room snaps at Mew as if to ask, why the hell did you do that? Gulf looks up, his eyes narrowed and aggressive. He searches the room for Mew, his movements slow and clumsy. When he spots his Khun Phi, he waves and gives a sleepy smile.

"See?" Mew looks back at Run. "Harmless."

His junior looks unconvinced. "You said you would feed him, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'll tame the beast." 

"You're one in a Mewlion!" 

"Say that again and I'll feed you to Gulf." 

Mew manages to get some orange slices and jackfruit chips into his co-star. Gulf chews quietly, watching football on his phone. He looks up when he swallows, and Mew knows to feed him another chip. Yup. He definitely answers to the pretty one. He can almost hear Mild making a whipping sound in his head. He smiles, watching Gulf's tiny chestnut lips chewing up and down. If this is the view he gets, he's more than happy to be whipped. 

"Khun Mew!" Run calls him over. 

He rolls his eyes. What now? He hands the bag of jackfruit chips to Gulf. "You good na?" 

"Khrab."

Mew joins Run and the vlog crew. "He should be fine if you want to interview him.”. 

Run smiles and nods his head. "Thanks na. Oh, Kaprao, come with us!" He motions to the actor who plays Khom. He and Mew wave at each other as they pass. Mew has to laugh. They all look as if they're walking toward their doom. Grumpy Gulf can't be that scary, right? 

________________

"That was terrifying na khrab!" Says Kaprao. He ducks behind Mew as they wait to board the ferry. "I thought you were scary, P'Mew, but P'Gulf is worse."

Mew laughs and nudges his new junior. "Me? Scary?" 

He nods. "Khrab. It's because you're so handsome na khrab. It makes you look stern and serious." He looks around and nods toward Gulf. "P'Gulf looks so nice when he smiles, but when he's sleepy he looks… I don't even want to finish my sentence!" He laughs and ducks even more behind Mew. 

Run taps him on the shoulder. "You think he'll get seasick?" 

Mew watches his co-star as he steps onto the gangway. Already he seems shaky and disoriented. "Let's give him some space," he says. What he's learned about his nong is that he gets easily overwhelmed when he's crowded without something to anchor him. And since being on a moving boat means literally being un-anchored, he figures Gulf probably wants to be left to sit with his parents. And if he does get seasick, he definitely wouldn't want anyone to see him, including Mew. 

"So, just on the ferry?" 

Mew runs a hand through his hair. "Let's give him the afternoon. Yai Nong looks pretty rough."

Run tsks. "What will we film, then? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm concerned for Nong Gulf. It's just… we have to have a vlog. Preferably with our lead actors."

"I know, I know…" Mew turns to his little junior. "Kaprao! You'll be the main star of the ferry ride! And… we'll figure out the rest later!" He laughs and heads to the ferry. They can probably follow P'Mame around. 

The ferry feels like a rollercoaster. Up and down, with wind assaulting them. Mew wonders how Gulf is doing. He doesn't even know where he is on the boat. At least he’s with his parents. He wishes he could be with him, holding him in his arms, feeling the pressure of his soft body swaying against his to the unsteady rhythm of the waves. He wishes he could run his fingers through Gulf's hair and rub his arm to soothe away the nausea. Maybe he should have sat with him after all. There are times when he doesn't know whether he should approach Gulf or not. He doesn't know if he should offer comfort or keep his distance. 

Run returns with the camera, his face pale with seasickness. "We thought the front of the ferry would be better." He sits and leans against Mew's shoulder. "We were wrong. Phi, I feel sick. Can't. Even. Talk." He dry heaves, and Mew recoils from him. 

"Shia! Face that way na!" He points in the opposite direction of his shoes. He takes the camera and microphone from him. "I'll take care of the footage until you recover."

"Khrab." 

"Don't talk, Run." 

__________________

It's excruciating being apart from Gulf, knowing that he's so close. As soon as the ferry stops, he wants to run around the boat and find him, but he reminds himself he should keep his distance and give Gulf his space. But it's hard. He has his own headache and nausea to combat, and he wants more than anything to hide his face in the soft and smooth skin of Gulf's neck until he feels better. But he can't be selfish and seek him out for his own benefit. He has to think of what Gulf would want. And he probably wants to be left alone, as solitary as he is at times. 

They disembark, with Mew taking lead of the vlog. Run contributes as much as he can, but he knows his junior is having trouble keeping his breakfast down. Mew musters whatever charm and will he has left to chat with people, and he gives in to his selfishness for just a moment to say hi to Gulf before resuming his plan of focusing on everyone else. It doesn't help when Gulf sits next to him on the shuttle to the resort, when his arm is aching to wrap itself around him. God, is he this addicted to touching Gulf that his body is literally in withdrawal from being distant? This can't be healthy. 

By the time they get settled in at the resort, Gulf looks even worse than before. Mew walks up to him, mindful not to touch him- he knows some people don't like to be touched when they feel sick. "Why don't you take a nap na?" 

Gulf all but glares at him. "Might as well…" he turns to the side and grumbles, "Not like I'll be talking to anyone." 

Mew tries not to frown. He supposes it's confirmation of his plan. Gulf doesn't want to interact with anyone, not even him. Wouldn't he have done something as Grumpy Gulf to show his interest in socializing? Regular Gulf gives Mew a lazy wave and walks to his room. 

Mew feels a heaviness in his chest. A heaviness but also an emptiness. The little bloom near his heart feels withered and worried. Gulf has become like sunshine for him, and the rain and winds of Samet Island seem to reflect the way he feels. Distant, alone, and cold. 

A few of them head to town to pray and shop for trinkets. Kaprao seems to be at his elbow wherever he goes. He's only catching half of what his nong is saying, both because he's distracted thinking of Gulf and because Kaprao speaks a million miles an hour. The rate at which he switches topics is astounding. 

"Hey, you think I should get one of these for my girlfriend na khrab?" Kaprao shows him a spiral seashell on a necklace. 

Mew looks at it. It would make a nice souvenir. He turns it over and spots an etching on the back of the shell that says Samet Island . 

"Hmm… what if you found a shell for her instead of buying one?" He shows him the marking on the back. "This makes it seem commercialized. You should find a shell that reminds you of her. Something personal." 

Kaprao's face lights up. "Khrab! No wonder P'Gulf likes you so much. P'Mew is wise and considerate." He smiles and returns the necklace. 

They walk around town for a bit, gorging themselves on local street food. Mew can't even count how many pork skewers and fish balls he's had. His headache is gone, but the heaviness/emptiness in his chest remains. Truth be told, he misses Gulf. It makes him feel pathetic. Like some mooning teenager who has nothing better to do than obsess about his crush. But he worries about him after the seasickness and all. Okay, and he misses him. He misses his cute little huh-huh laugh, his awkward boldness, and the shampoo scent of him. He misses… Gulf. 

"P'Mew khrab? Can I ask you something about Tharn?" Kaprao waits for him to nod before continuing. "When do you think Tharn realized Type was gay?" 

Mew stops in his tracks. He's never thought about that before. Well, he has and he hasn't. "Um, Yai Nong and I portrayed it as Type and Tharn being attracted to each other from the start." He scratches his head. "And I think Tharn might have guessed Type was into men from their early interactions. You know, gaydar." 

"Gaydar…" Kaprao twists some kind of plastic toy in his hands. "How does that even work? Do you know, P'Mew? I know you and P'Gulf researched your roles." 

Mew wants to laugh. His entire love life has been research enough to understand gaydar, or at least the bisexual version. "Um, from what I understand, a lot of it is non-verbal." He throws away his wooden skewer stick. "Prolonged eye contact, for one. Men tend to avoid looking in other men's eyes, unless they're, you know… interested." 

Kaprao nods. "It's like what P'Run said about you and P'Gulf having intense eye contact whenever you talk to each other." 

"Alai?" Mew wonders exactly what Run told him.

"Mm. I'm sure you two have to practice and get used to it so it looks natural on camera." 

Yeah, that's it. He nods to Kaprao. "So, there's the way they look at each other, they way Type smiles at him. He even hints that Tharn is good-looking. And this is within two minutes of meeting each other." 

"I suppose those are pretty strong indicators to go off of. Only thing more obvious would have been if Type had blushed around Tharn, don't you think?" He chuckles and takes a bite of his chicken skewer.

Mew feels a hint of panic. Hadn't Gulf blushed when they met? But that was different. They were interacting in a romantic sense. Of course he would feel shy. Except Gulf told him he only felt shy with him, no other actors. He said Mew had made him feel most like Type. What does that even mean? 

Kaprao laughs. "But what about when they were fighting? Why would Tharn continue to flirt with him? Why did he do… you know… in the shower? Revenge? Or did he like him by then? How did he know Type would be into it?" 

Mew takes a deep breath. His new Nong has more questions than Gulf. "I think Tharn still has hope. The thing that separates Tharn from everyone else is that he sees Type for who he really is. He pays attention to him." 

Kaprao smiles and takes another bite of chicken. He seems to ponder Mew's words as he chews. "So, even though Type acts hateful to him, Tharn can see the truth behind his actions, and knows that the chemistry they shared when they first met is how they truly feel for each other?" 

Mew repeats the sentence in his head. The chemistry they shared when they first met is how they truly feel for each other. The words sear themselves into his heart. He thinks about auditions, when everyone said he and Gulf had amazing chemistry. Mew remembers the tingling and aching sensation of interacting with someone whose personality was compatible with his own. An electricity between them that radiated during the short scene they acted out and the scattered fragments of conversation they shared. But it was that moment when they kissed through the paper that made everybody shiver. The moment when Tharn awakened in Mew, Type solidified in Gulf, and the standoffish and reclusive boy felt so shy that his ears turned red. 

Mew thinks about the intense attraction he had toward Gulf during auditions. It wasn't necessarily a physical attraction- though Mew remembers finding him rather handsome at the time. Rather, it was a sort of fascination with him, something inexplicable that drew Mew toward the lonely boy surrounded by his "bodyguards." Something in his quiet and withdrawn nature that cried out to Mew for a connection, a bond. An anchor. 

Fuck. Mew could kick himself. This whole time he's been trying to give Gulf his space, when he might have actually wanted someone to anchor him. Someone to comfort him and reach out to him because for all of Grumpy Gulf's boldness, regular Gulf lacks the courage to initiate the contact he wants. And while it's true that Gulf tends to keep to himself and avoids being overwhelmed and overstimulated, it doesn't mean he likes being alone. How often is he content to sit there and let Mew hold him and squeeze his belly while Mew chats with others? And if Grumpy Gulf is an unfiltered Gulf, a Gulf without inhibitions, then the thing that regular Gulf wants but doesn't initiate is _touch_. Specifically touch from Mew, his fucking anchor who should have been there for him today. 

"Shia…" he turns to Kaprao. "I gotta head back. Wanna come with, or are you going to stay longer?" 

Kaprao gives him a thumbs up. "I'll go back with you." He smiles at Mew, warm and comforting. "Maybe P'Gulf will be awake by the time we get there." 


	26. Hidden Sun: Evening

Gulf is still asleep by the time they get back to the resort. Mew knew he would be exhausted, which is why he suggested a nap in the first place. He has half a mind to knock on Gulf's door and ask to join him, but even if he had that kind of courage, he wouldn't risk having his ghosts crash the party. He wishes he knew what was causing these dreams. 

Kaprao sits with him at a picnic table in the courtyard. His little nong is making origami animals while Mew tries to learn a new song on his guitar. He can't help but look up anytime a room door opens or he hears footsteps.

Kaprao finishes folding a paper cat. It's stretching forward as if pouncing on something. "Perfect! I've never done this pose before!" He smiles and shows his Phi. "I'm better with giraffes. Do you want this one?" 

Mew admires the origami animal. "It's cute! Don't you want to keep it?"

Kaprao shakes his head. "I have too many. Besides, I think it suits you na khrab." He makes a tiny ball with some scrap paper. "It kind of reminds me of P'Gulf. Don't you think? Weird." He tosses the ball in front of the cat and poses it so that it's playing. 

Mew laughs. It's a quiet laugh. It would be louder and more excited if he didn't feel so awful. If he didn't miss Gulf so much. It's worse than his days off, because he's actually here. He's somewhere nearby and Mew feels so cut off from him. 

Which is probably how Gulf felt all day. God, Mew hates himself for this. He'll make it up to him at dinner. He'll get him a nice seat by the aircon and make sure to save his favorite food. He'll talk to him and give him all the attention that he's wanted to give him since this morning. Hell, they can load up their plates and find somewhere private to eat, if that's what Gulf wants. He'll ask him as soon as he gets there. 

He looks at the little paper cat. It really does remind him of Gulf. "Thanks na.” 

He takes a walk around the resort, not too far in case Gulf wakes up. He's determined to apologize the second he sees him. Every hour that goes by, it eats away at him. When he gets back to the courtyard, everyone is gathered around P'Tee. Mew sits at the picnic table again. He listens to the story of P'Tee getting lost on his way back from town, and how he ended up finding a cliff overlooking the ocean. It's the new location for where Tharn and Type will kiss at sunrise. 

P'Pee notices him and walks over. "Beef rib na khaaaaa." He sits and leans against his arm. "Your lap looks so empty without the cherub sitting in it." 

Mew rolls his eyes. "He doesn't always sit in my lap." Which is, quite frankly, a shame. 

"No, sometimes you're not around and he has to learn how to use a chair again." Pee smirks and blows him a kiss. 

He grabs at the air and mimes putting the kiss in his pocket. "He's napping." 

"Still?" Pee presses a hand to his heart and winks. "Mew-Mew, you really tired him out."

He ignores the comment. "Hey, Phi," he turns and gives his senior his most imploring eyes. "Do me a favor na khrab?" 

"You want me to teach him about cleaning out, don't you?" 

Mew's jaw drops. Alai wa? "Pee, this isn't about sex. What kind of person do you think I am?" He laughs to cover his shock. "You really think I want you to instruct him on how to clean out his...?" Are they really having this conversation? 

P'Pee shrugs. "Someone has to inform the boy." 

God, make it stop. Mew buries his face in his palm. "Why are you like this na khrab?" 

His senior smacks his arm. "Because I'm practical, you melon. Do you want him to learn this stuff from the internet?"

“Save your breath, I already told him about it." He catches himself and shakes his head. "Wait! Why are we still talking about this? Phi, we're not having sex." 

"I mean, he knows how to prep now…" 

He sighs and holds his senior by the shoulders. "Gulf and I are not together. We're not sleeping together, we're not dating, we're not even talking about dating." 

Pee slaps his hands away. "For fuck's sake, Nong, what have you been up to, then?" He reaches for his hand. "Is everything okay na, baby? Are you still heartbroken?" 

Mew squeezes his hand and laughs. Not because it's funny, but because he needs to find humor in this mess to keep from going crazy. "I don't know?" He laughs again and looks up at the darkening sky. It'll be dinner soon, and hopefully Gulf will wake up and all of this will have been nothing more than a waking nightmare. "I feel fine. But whenever I sleep with him- not like that, Phi- I keep dreaming about my exes." 

"Even… _him_?" 

"Especially him. I've said his name in my sleep a few times now, and Gulf's heard me. He calls it _the name you won't let anyone say_." 

Pee sucks in air through his teeth and pats his hand. "Well, that certainly complicates things. Did you at least get to see Fasai?" 

Mew shakes his head. "Just two exes so far." He lets out a heavy breath. "Phi, why is this happening na? Why am I having these dreams?" 

"Who's the other ex?" 

"Bank."

"That fuckboy." He crosses his arms and makes a hmph noise. "I heard he's going prematurely bald."

You don't even know him." 

He slaps Mew's thigh. "No, but you believed me for a second! I like to think it's true. He thought he was the shit for being older than you, well, he can go ahead and be older!"

Mew sulks for a moment. He remembers viewing the age gap between him and Bank as immense, when really it was only three years. Which means Bank is only 31 now. It seems so miniscule compared to 21 and 28. He groans and leans against P'Pee. 

"Alai, bean sprout?" Pee puts his arm around him. "Are you thinking about the age difference again? Listen to me, baby." 

He grunts in acknowledgement.

"That's Mama's good boy." Pee pats his head and clears his throat. "Bank let the age gap get to him so much that he ended up cheating on you. He ruined the best thing that ever happened to him, okay, noodle?" 

"Can I still ask my favor?" 

"If you must."

"Help me save Gulf's favorite food if they serve it?" 

Pee laughs and shakes Mew's shoulder. "I like seeing you shirtless, but I love seeing you whipped." 

_____________________

_Mew looked at his phone. No call from Ford. He supposed that was a good thing. It meant he wasn't clingy or anything, right? And clingy was supposed to be bad, right? He sighed and looked at the time. 14:00. P'Book said he had to wait until at least after 14:30 to call him. To make him squirm, or whatever mind game Book was trying to teach him. "You have to play the game now that you're in college. It's not like high school where you make out and all of a sudden you're boyfriends."_

_And so Mew was bound by the unwritten rules of grown-up dating to wait the customary three days before calling the cute guy from the library._

_"Hello?" Ford finally answered after a billion rings. Was this also part of the game?_

_Mew rolled his eyes. "Hey." He looked around his dorm room. Shia, after all this time he didn't have anything to say. "Hungry?"_

_"Depends," said Ford._

_"On?"_

_"If you're asking me on a date." Ford chuckled. "But you'll have to say more than one word at a time to do that."_

_Mew laughed. He was overthinking this whole college dating thing, wasn't he? "I know a place that makes great panang. You wanna go there with me for dinner?"_

_"Meh." Ford made a dismissive noise._

_Well, fuck. These stupid college rules were stupid. "Um, no problem-"_

_"I don't want to wait for dinner," said Ford. "I know a good noodle place for lunch. It's a date?"_

_Mew swallowed. "Sure." Would he ever get used to playing this game?_

________________

Mew looks at Run from across the dinner table. He, Pee, and Kaprao are on dish lookout. Between the four of them, they should be able to save some crispy pork kaprao and pad see eiw for when Gulf arrives. Whenever that is. Mew looks around, conscious of the empty chair next to him. The one he had to negotiate with P'Kob for. Is he being presumptuous to think Gulf wants to sit next to him after the way he acted today?

Twenty minutes after dinner starts, and Mew considers going to Gulf's room to check on him. He pulls out his phone to see if he texted, and that's when he appears in the dining hall. Why does it feel like a year since he last saw him? It's not Grumpy Gulf who looks around. It's regular Gulf who scans the room and sees the empty spot next to Mew. Mew wants to wave or smile or mouth the word _hey_ , but he feels frozen in time. All he can do is watch as Gulf disregards the obvious invitation for him and instead joins P'Pee and Kaprao at the end of the table. Maybe he's being humble, not assuming that he has a saved seat at the center. Maybe the wind and mist from the rain have made him cold and he doesn't want to sit by the aircon. 

Maybe he wants distance from Mew after all. 

Gulf won't look at him. If he's upset, he has every right to be. Except he doesn't look upset. He's talking and laughing with people- things that Gulf doesn't do easily. And yet he's doing it so naturally. Just like how he's smiling at Kaprao. And wasn't Kaprao very fixated on Gulf all day? _P'Gulf looks so nice when he smiles. Maybe P'Gulf will be awake by the time we get there. It kind of reminds me of P'Gulf._ Shia. Does he have a crush on him? What if there is no girlfriend? What if the shell is for Gulf, and Gulf is smiling and joking with Kaprao because he likes him back?

Mew shakes his head. He's overthinking. He's letting anxiety get the best of him. Of course Kaprao's girlfriend is real. And so what if he has a crush on Gulf? Who can blame him? And if Gulf likes him back… then Gulf likes him back. And there's nothing he can do about it. And so he waits. He waits for some kind of indication that he's welcome in Gulf's presence. He tells himself it's not the same as earlier. Mew had been the one to distance himself from Gulf, which meant he could always change his mind and find him. But now it's Gulf who's creating the distance, and Mew definitely wants to respect that. 

Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Mew pushes his food around. He's being so stupid. He's sulking like a teenager. He always gets carried away when he likes someone. He's never been good at the dating game, especially now, when he doesn't even know if the other person is playing. 

It occurs to Mew that he doesn't have to talk to Gulf. Tharn can. 

He looks around the table. "Who's seen my boyfriend?" A dozen or so heads snap in Gulf's direction, followed by an assortment of teasing noises. Gulf smiles and makes Wai. 

Mew pouts. "Type…" he nags. "Why didn't you sit with me na? I saved a seat for my boyfriend." Sounds of pity make their way down the rows of people. 

Gulf arches an eyebrow. "If Tharn were a more attentive boyfriend, he would have noticed that Type arrived half an hour ago." 

Tharn might not have noticed, but Mew certainly did. A chorus of _uh-oh_ and _oooooh, you're in trouble_ echos back to Mew. 

He rises from his seat and makes Wai. "Sorry na khrab. Maybe Tharn can make it up to Type tonight in his room?" Tharn can say these things, can't he?

Hoots and hollers erupt from the peanut gallery. A few people start chanting, Tharntype! Tharntype! Gulf is laughing, and Mew feels something rising in his chest. It's the bloom in the center of his ribcage, the one that struggles to flower, to seek out the sunlight that radiates from Gulf. But that sun feels hidden, and the bloom in Mew's chest feels cold.

His co-star smirks back at him. "How presumptuous of Tharn to assume Type is always available for him. Can't you see we're at my home? If you need me, I'll be catching up with my best friend, Khom." He nods in Kaprao's direction. 

Nong's eyes widen. "Don't bring me into this! I'm not a homewrecker!" He laughs as the others tease him. 

He has to admit, the little nong is adorable. He'll have to get his Line number and follow up on that seashell idea. Kaprao's face is priceless, and he can't stop laughing. 

He wipes the tears from his eyes from laughing too hard and gestures with his hands for everyone to quiet. "Khrab, khrab. Let's not discuss this in front of everyone na." He chuckles and walks over to Gulf, confident that he can at least approach as Tharn.

Pee seems to sense his apprehension and reaches out to him. "P'Mew khaaaaa." He runs his hand down Mew's arm. "If Nong Gulf is busy with Nong Kaprao this evening, you're welcome to hang out in my room." He sounds flirty, but he knows Pee means it. He's letting Mew know that he can come talk if it gets to that point.

'Mew pats him on the shoulder. "If I get too jealous, I just might." What did he do to deserve such a great friend? He motions toward Kaprao. "How can I compete with such a handsome young man? One look at Nong, and it's no wonder my boyfriend abandoned me." He pretends to cry into Pee's shoulder. 

Kaproa gives a good natured laugh and shakes his head. "P'Mew is too kind na khrab," he says with a small Wai. "But there's no competition. P'Mew is more handsome khrab." The four of them nod to acknowledge the exchange of compliments. Gulf looks like he wants to roll his eyes.

Mew doesn't know how to feel. Finally having his junior's attention doesn't feel nearly as good as he thought it would. He tries to make conversation, but Gulf zones out. Typical. But then he sees something he probably shouldn't have. He sees Gulf look over at Kaprao and smile at him. It's a small smile, tiny and private. A smile that Mew has never received from Gulf. He stops talking mid-sentence. 

"P'Mew khaaaaa?" Pee shakes his arm. "What were you saying?" 

Mew can't remember. He doesn't even know what they were talking about anymore. He only knows that his chest is freezing, and that he feels more alone in Gulf's presence than he ever has. He looks into his Yai Nong's eyes, and it doesn't spark that fire anymore. It cuts like jagged ice, and he can sense something pass between them. They're still not at the level where they can communicate wordlessly, and perhaps they never will be. But what Mew can tell from this eye contact, unlike the eye contact that burned itself into his soul, is that their connection has lessened somehow. Their bond is loosened, their chemistry neutralizing. 

"Khrab," says Mew, patting P'Pee on the shoulder. "We should let them work. They have their scenes tomorrow. Tell me more about P'Tee getting lost?" He leads Pee to the refreshment table for drinks.

Mew wants to imagine it, but he distinctly hears Gulf tell Kaprao, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Pee waits until they're out of earshot. "What in gay hell just happened?" 

Mew shuts his eyes. "I don't know. I don't know anything na." 

"I know your boy is running off with the little guava." Pee points to Gulf and Kaprao walking out toward the beach. "I'd say it's a good thing the little nong has a girlfriend, but Yai Nong was so charming at dinner. I almost wanted to steal him from you..." 

Mew pours himself some lemonade and downs it in one go. "You can't steal him from me, because he isn't mine." He walks off toward his room. Ironically, he wants to be by himself. After spending the day with everyone but Gulf, he just wants to be alone. 

His room feels sterile and chilly. Hard to believe there were people in here a few hours ago. He crawls into the bed and gathers all the pillows around him like a nest. Like a hug. He hates feeling so pathetic and needy. His heart may have healed some, but it hasn't learned its lesson. Stupid heart. He shoves his face into the closest pillow and yells into it. He's a grown man and he's acting like an idiot. He pulls the pillow close to his chest and groans. 

It feels like every time he tries to do the right thing, it backfires. It has to mean something, right? That his instincts are wrong, his logic is faulty, and that he's obviously not meant for Gulf if he can't even get today right. This was a test of their compatibility, if ever there was one. And Mew not only failed, but he failed the makeup test, too. 

His phone chimes, and he almost doesn't look at it. But if there's something Mew hates, it's being alone, even when he wants to be alone. 

** Eye **

Get outside na, Phi. You're no good in your room. 

How does she know everything?

** Mew **

Tell Pee not to drag you into this

** Eye **

P'Pee hasn't said anything to me. A woman knows. 

** Mew **

A woman knows bc someone told her. Tell Run to leave you out of this mess

** Eye **

P'Run's phone is dead. 

** Mew **

Then turn off the hidden camera bc that's creepy

** Eye **

Ok it was P'Pee. He told me to tell you that your guitar is still outside. Might rain again. 

Shia. Mew thanks her and heads back to the courtyard. It's still at the picnic table where he spent most of the day. The rest of the cast, staff, and crew are mingling around the other tables, chatting and drinking beer. He loves hearing the sounds of voices and laughter. It's much nicer than his lonely room, and so he decides he'll stay. He faces away from everyone, looking out into the darkness of the island. He still hasn't been able to learn that new song, so he plays an old one instead. A song about unrequited love to reflect the shitty way he feels right now. 

What if he just confessed? What if he just ran out to the fucking beach and told Gulf that he thinks he's perfect? That his smile is the sun to him and that his dorky huh-huh laugh is his favorite sound? That he hates, hates how much Gulf likes wordplay jokes, but he loves seeing him so amused by them? That his favorite part of the morning is Grumpy Gulf, and that his favorite part of any day is...Gulf? Could he be brave enough to do all that? He keeps playing the song, keeps wishing he knew what to do. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he sets his guitar on the table.

"Sawadee-khrab, Khun Phi." 

Mew freezes. Is he hearing stuff now? He glances over his shoulder and there's Gulf, bare faced and beautiful. He chuckles. "Nong is so formal all of a sudden." Are they really such strangers?

Mew's not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't Gulf's arms wrapping around his waist or his head leaning against his back. Surely he has to be dreaming. Surely he's still in his pillow nest in his room, dreaming that Gulf is holding him… except that's not what Mew dreams about these days. Which means this is real. 

He places his hand over Gulf's. His skin is cold, but the touch is warm. It spreads from his palm to his arm and makes its way to his chest. He feels the radiance from Gulf's sun, bathing the bloom in his chest with light. God, he missed his touch. How could he have chosen to be without this all day? 

"You know," says Mew. "I've felt cold all day until just now." 

"Me, too." 

Mew smiles, wondering if Gulf means it the way he does. He laughs and pats his hand. "What's this?" He can feel his hand wrapped around something bulky. 

Gulf opens it to show him a seashell. "I found it on the beach. What do you think?" 

It's cute. Of course it's cute. Send Gulf to a beach full of sharp and pointy seashells, and he comes back with a cute round one that looks like dessert. 

Mew pokes it with his finger. "It's making me hungry. Looks like sanay chan, doesn't it?" 

Gulf squeezes him. "Khrab. It's for you. Consider it a midnight snack. It won't make you fat." 

This again? When will Gulf take responsibility for making him gain weight? Mew groans and hunches over so Gulf is pulled tighter around him. His laughter shakes them both. "So cruel to your Phi!" He releases him and comes around the table to sit on the bench. 

Gulf holds out the shell. "Do you want it or not?"

Mew looks at him and smiles. He hasn't been this close to his Yai Nong all day, and seeing him now makes Mew feel like he's falling in love. Would he really be surprised? 

"Yes," says Mew. He tugs on Gulf's hand and pulls him into his lap. The familiar pressure of Gulf's weight against his body warms him all over. He squeezes him tight, never wanting to let go. 

They stay like this for a while. Mew fills Gulf in on everything he missed while he napped, including the bits of P'Tee's story that he said he missed during dinner. He wishes they could stay like this all night and talk until sunrise, but production has other plans for sunrise. Mew doesn't mind too much, since those plans involve kissing Gulf at dawn. 

He walks his junior back to his room, ignoring everyone's cat calls and hoots. He waves them off while Gulf smiles and shakes his head. 

"Hey, hey," Mew calls out. "Don't get any ideas na. No matter how badly Yai Nong wants it, I will resist because I'm a good boy." 

Laughter erupts and Gulf turns red with giggles. He shakes his head at Mew and scolds him. 

"Alai? Can't hear you!"

Gulf laughs behind his hand. "I said P'Mew is evil!" He steps closer and grins. "And I've changed my mind about inviting you into my room." He pats Mew on the shoulder and walks off. 

Mew stays rooted to the spot, watching Gulf retreat into the darkness toward his room. He assumed he was walking him to his door, but did he just say _into his room_? Gulf was going to invite him into his room? 

The sounds of pity bring Mew back to the present. He turns to all the sympathetic and mocking faces. He can't help but laugh, really he can't.

"Show's over na!" He tells them. He giggles as they heckle him all the way to his room. 

As he settles into bed for the night, he feels light and warm and happy. He can't wait to see his Yai Nong in a matter of hours. To feel the sunrise kiss their skin as he kisses Gulf's chestnut lips. He looks at the shell on his night stand. Google said it was called a moon shell. Fitting, considering it looks like sanay chan. He wonders if Gulf associates him with the moon, the way he associates Gulf with the sun. It would truly make them something out of a BL novel. 


	27. Hidden Sun: From the Top

Mew discovers that Mother Nature can be cruel. The winds and rain at Samet Island have prevented any chance of a sunrise kiss between Tharn and Type, and so P'Mame sits on a folding chair in the dirt path, tapping away at her laptop. Run squats next to her with a hand pressed to his mouth as he reads over her shoulder. 

Mew sneaks a glance at Gulf. Their eyes meet and something in Gulf's close-lipped smile tells him that he may feel just as shy as he does. Mew has to look away before he starts blushing. He feels like a teenager again, afraid to look his crush in the eye. Butterflies like a teenager, too. They flutter around his stomach and up around his chest, landing on the delicate petals of his flowering bloom. He looks at Gulf once more and is met by a smile so sweet it spikes his blood sugar. The sun at Samet Island is still hiding, but Mew's is right here. 

He takes a deep breath and approaches Gulf. "Just as well," he says, walking around him to pull him in for a back hug. "As if Type could get Tharn out of bed for the sunrise." 

His junior chuckles and looks over his shoulder at him. "Who says they went to bed that night?" 

"Yai Nong!" 

They laugh together and Gulf bounces his fist on Mew's arm. "I mean it, though. The scene right before this is the love scene." 

"Really?" Mew can't keep the script straight. "Wouldn't they rather sleep in and cuddle?" He squeezes Gulf around the middle. 

His junior leans into the touch. "Not with his father walking around. Best to have a romantic moment at sunrise." 

Yeah, except that didn't work out. And today was the only day they could shoot it, according to their schedule. He whines and buries his face in Gulf's shoulder. "At this rate, we'll have to kiss at sunset." He laughs and sighs against him. "Shame na. Yai Nong is like the sun."

"Hot?" Gulf laughs his little huh-huh laugh. 

Mew giggles. "Maybe, but I won't tell." He lays his cheek on Gulf's back. "Yai Nong is warm and bright. Sometimes hidden behind clouds, other times intense and cruel to his Khun Phi." He squeezes the baby fat at Gulf's tummy. 

Gulf makes a kind of humming sound. "Well, if we do shoot at night, I think it would work. Khun Phi is better suited for the moon, anyway." 

"...pale?" 

The two of them burst into laughter, momentarily drawing the attention of those around them. But by now everyone is used to their closeness. It was yesterday's distance that freaked everyone out. 

Gulf pinches at Mew's arm. "Khun Phi has many sides to him like the phases of the moon. Bright and glowing, all the way to the dark side that nobody sees. But even when down to a small crescent, there's still light in the darkness." 

Mew doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to think. All he knows is what to do, which is to hold Gulf close and savor every second of his touch. He remembers looking at the moon shell last night, wondering if Gulf thought the same way he did. He never imagined it would actually be true. And for Gulf to see him not as he tries to project himself- confident, outgoing, and happy- but as he really is. Complex, vulnerable, and inconstant. Resilient, even. It should scare him how easily his nong can see through his facade and see who he really is. But instead it feels like a relief. Gulf may not know many things about him, but he knows his nature. Plenty of people never learned that about Mew.

He leans his head against Gulf's. "You know, don't you?" He presses the palm of his hand flat against Gulf's stomach. "The moon gets all of its light from the sun. The more sunlight it gets, the brighter it shines." 

"Careful, Phi." His voice is barely audible over the wind. "Or you'll make me fall for you." 

_____________________

"Don't push each other off the cliff, na," shouts Run. Mew turns and smirks at him. He slowly brings a hand toward Gulf, as if he's going to do it. 

"Oy, Phi!" Gulf smacks his hand. "Are you really gonna let me die a virgin?" 

Alai wa? Mew looks around to see if anyone else heard. But of course no one did, because Gulf is an evil little shit who knows exactly how softly to speak so that only Mew can hear him. 

Gulf is laughing now, first at Mew's shocked face and second at everyone else's confused expressions. Because only Mew will leave this island having heard Gulf's question.

Mew shakes his head and snickers. "Does Yai Nong admit to that, then?" 

He shrugs and makes Type's _call my bluff_ face. "Depends," he says matter-of-factly. He leans forward and grins. "Lots of ways to consider it na khrab." 

What is happening? Mew looks back at Run, his face pleading for help. Gulf has him trapped at the edge of a cliff where nobody can hear them because the damn boom mic is still being set up and the wind is too fierce and Gulf is too evil and Mew is too whipped to do anything but sit there and take it. 

But really, who wouldn't want to? Mew loves seeing this rare side of Gulf come out to play. The one who borrows from Type's facial expressions to be extra cocky, and whose timing for evil deeds is impeccable. The side of Gulf that would openly hint at his potential virginity, and the possible meanings of that. Meaning he's never been the giver, the receiver, or neither? A three year relationship with a girl implies he's at least been the giver. So then… is he trying to tell Mew that he's never been a receiver? And that possibly he would like to be? Mew looks into the big and teasing Bambi eyes in front of him, the ones that know when their audience is hooked and will not give in so easily. 

"So is Khun Phi going to do it to me?" 

"Alai wa?" Mew’s face is burning beneath the skin. What do they call it? Gay panic? 

"Is Khun Phi going to push me off the cliff?" 

Oh. He clears his throat and looks around. Right. The cliff. He turns back to Gulf and smiles. "I won't push you off the cliff na." 

Gulf gives one of his slow and exaggerated nods. "That's a relief. I always did think Khun Phi would protect me." 

Mew lets out the deep breath he's been holding. Gulf won't even have to push him off the edge to kill him. He's halfway there already.

"Khun Phi khrab?" Gulf smacks him on the leg. "How much do you think it bothers Tharn that Type doesn't say I love you very often?" 

He shrugs. "A lot at first, I think." He shields his eyes so the wind won't dry out his contacts. "But he learns that Type says it all the time, just in different ways." 

Gulf makes a dismissive noise. "Cop out na khrab." He scoots closer. "After everything they've been through, wouldn't he want to tell Tharn more often?"

Here is where Mew is on Type's side for once. As much as he disagrees with Type's actions, he understands his rationing of the L word. "I think saying it too much makes it lose its value." 

This earns him an eye roll from his co-star. "So old fashioned na, Khun Phi!" He shakes Mew's leg with his hand. "The last person who said that to me was my grandfather." 

Mew sulks. Truth be told, he's gone back and forth on the issue. Sometimes saying it whenever he had the chance, other times saving it for special moments. Sometimes in between to include good-byes or good nights. None of it ever mattered in the end. He said I love you, they all said good-bye.

Mew sighs and looks out at the ocean. "Then maybe frequency isn't what matters. Maybe it only matters who you say it to." 

There's a moment of silence between them where nothing but the wind and the waves are heard. Gulf laughs. "Khun Phi knows I'm not a romantic person." 

Mew makes a humph noise in response. 

Gulf continues to laugh. "But- but I think if I loved someone, I would tell them often."

Mew looks at him, not quite sure what to think. He can barely believe Gulf will say I love you on camera for episode 12, much less in real life. He can't ever imagine him wanting to say it more than he has to. 

His co-star notices the skeptical look on his face. "Aw. Khun Phi doesn't believe me?" 

"Not at all." 

Gulf laughs and pats his knee. "That's because I don't see it as being romantic na. If I love someone, it's a fact. I'm not trying to keep it secret." He pauses and looks out at the water. "Unless I want to keep it a secret." 

"So, you would just tell your faen that, fun fact: I love you?" 

They giggle at the absurdity, Gulf pressing down on Mew's thigh with the heel of his palm. "But it is a fact! Love isn't an object, P'Mew. It can't get worn out. It just… is." 

It's Mew's turn to roll his eyes. "The gift that keeps on giving." 

"Shai." 

When they finally kiss for the scene, Mew does wonder why P'Mame doesn't have Type say _I love you_. By now, he's already said it. And after all the shit Tharn's been through on this trip, meeting Type's father and enduring spicy food, would it kill Type to tell his devoted boyfriend that he loves him? 

It's a fact, isn't it?

______________________

_P'Book had warned him. "Don't be the first to say I love you."_

_Mew should have listened. P'Book had been right about everything else so far, hadn't he?_

_Don't call him until after 3 days, past 14:30_

_Don't ask him on a date two times in a row. Make him ask you._

_Don't respond to texts right away. And don't send more than two texts at a time. One if you can help it._

_Don't be too available. Let him know you have other options._

_Don't be so touchy-touchy. You hug too much, New._

_Don't be clingy._

_Don't be needy._

_Don't be the first to admit feelings._

_Mew hated playing the game. It hadn't been this way with P'Bank, and he was in college. Of course, that might have been what separated him from that older guy who Bank had left him for. Now that Mew knew the rules, it should have made dating easier._

_Except it wasn't. Everything about these dating rules went against Mew's nature. Why was it so bad to be genuine about your feelings? Mew wanted to ask Ford out for dates all the time. He wanted to respond to texts as soon as he received them. And sometimes he just wanted to hang on his arm or hug him. But no, that was being too touchy or clingy or needy or whatever, wasn't it? God, he hated these rules._

_Sometimes Mew broke the rules. He would ask Ford out twice in a row or text back immediately. Sometimes he couldn't help himself and would cuddle with Ford, especially after sex. And if Book ever called him out on it, well, Mew was just a dumb freshman so what did he know about following rules?_

_____________________

Mew has the rest of the day off, miraculously. Gulf has several scenes for episode 7 to film, so Tharn won't be in them. It's weird after yesterday's separation to be forcibly separated now.

They stand awkwardly in the courtyard. Gulf has to film soon, and Mew has to… well, whatever he wants. He and Run talked about going to town and doing some sightseeing. And speaking of Run, Mew looks around for his friend. He spots him behind the bungalow where Type will repair the roof, trying to look as casual as possible. He gives Mew a thumbs up. 

"Okay na," says Mew, reaching out to pat Gulf in the small of his back. "I'm going to town. Text me if you need anything. Susu na."

Gulf gives him the cutest, tiniest wave and a small, closed-lipped smile. God, he's so cute. Mew considers hugging him goodbye but even that seems too clingy for him. Maybe when they're closer. 

On the shuttle to town, he gets a text from his co-star.

** Gulf **

Be careful, Phi… you're gonna make me fall for you

There's a picture attached. It's a note that Mew wrote this morning and had Run leave on the snack table, along with three bags of pork rinds. The note says: Here na, since I don't get to kiss you until tomorrow. -Khun Phi 

** Mew **

Maybe I don't want to be careful

** Gulf **

Famous last words

________________

Run leans over and takes a bite from Mew's chicken skewer. "Thanks na khrab," he mumbles with a full mouth. 

Mew giggles and hands him the rest of it. "All yours. I have to be shirtless tomorrow anyway." 

Run wiggles his eyebrows. "Things going well with the cherub?" 

"Does he know that people call him that?" 

"You want to tell him?" 

"I'm not that brave."

They get to a pier and walk to the very end. Mew looks out at the dark waters of Samet Island. The sky is clearing somewhat, but not quite the paradise they had hoped for. Next week is storm season, after all. 

"How are things progressing na?" Asks Run.

Mew can't help but laugh. "Doesn't anyone get tired of discussing my love life?" He leans against the railing.

Run chuckles and claps him on the back. "We work in BL, Phi! Love is our business." 

"It's our job." 

"It's our life!" He shouts, opening his arms. "Hmm, sorry na." He hides his sheepish smile behind his hand. 

Mew scratches his head. "I think there's progress? I think he flirts with me?"

"Does he? I'm never around enough. What does a flirting Gulf even look like?" 

"Mesmerizing." 

"Why did I bother asking?" 

Mew gives him a few examples of the times he thought Gulf was flirting. About the day in workshop where he told Mew he wanted everything from him. Grumpy Gulf's insistence on being held in the morning. Giving him the moon shell and comparing him to the moon itself. He conveniently leaves out the virginity comments. 

Mew shrugs. "I know it's not much to go on." Saying the examples out loud suddenly makes them sound so flimsy. Is it just wishful thinking? 

Run lets out a long whistle. "I don't know what kind of flirting you're used to, Phi, but it seems pretty clear to me." He laughs and slaps his arm a few times. "Is it just me na, or is he getting bolder?" 

Mew shakes his head and laughs. "I don't think I'm the best person to ask. The staff and crew say he's different with me than everyone else." 

"Tell me again why you're doubtful he has feelings for you?" 

Yeah, yeah. Mew turns to him and shrugs. "What if he doesn't know that he likes men?" He shakes his head. "Never mind. After all this denial, I can't keep making excuses. The little shit likes guys, I can feel it."

"Like, against your hip?" 

"Well… yes." They giggle like school boys. "Don't tell him I told you!" 

Run leans on Mew's shoulder as he continues to laugh. "And it took you how long to figure out he likes men?" 

"There were other things to consider," Mew explains. "But I honestly don't know that he knows. 

Run shrugs. "How did you figure out you liked guys?" 

"Kept staring at cute boys in my classes." 

"You're no help." 

"That's what my teachers said." They have another good laugh before they tire themselves out. 

"You could always talk to him," says Run. 

"Too scary."

"Come on!" Run gives him an incredulous look. "You deal with Grumpy Gulf every morning!"

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. "Grumpy Gulf just wants sleep and food. But if I ask him if he's attracted to men, or hell, if he has feelings for me… that conversation has some serious consequences." 

"Yeah," Run shivers. "You could end up happy and together. How awful." 

Mew nods, more to himself than Run. "I just need to give it some time. Things are good right now. I don't want to ruin them again." 

Run sighs and places an arm around Mew's shoulders. "That's fair. Leave it on autopilot. This ship sails itself, anyway." 

____________________

P'Jane stands between Mew and Gulf. "After a few kisses, Tharn will kiss Type's forehead. Then Type, you remove his shirt, okay na?" She moves out of the way and has them mime the motions. They have to do extra practice for the love scene, since they won't have much time to shoot it.

When Gulf leans in for a kiss, Mew gets caught off guard. "Alai?" He backs up and holds onto Gulf's arms. "What are you doing?" 

Gulf's eyes widen and he looks around. "Did I get it wrong?" He looks at P'Jane. "What happens next?" 

P'Jane giggles. "You have the script right, but we're not doing full rehearsal." 

Gulf looks confused. He looks back and forth between them, his eyes perfectly round like a chibi character. Nalak nalak. So cute.

"We're not kissing tonight," Mew tells him. "We're just doing blocking."

"Aow." Gulf looks so disappointed. "I brushed after I ate the pork rinds, too. Twice." 

Mew can't help his smile. He can't help the pang in his chest or the rush in his stomach. Gulf actually prepared to kiss him? Gulf’s disappointed that he won’t get to?

"Didn't you read the note? I said I wouldn't kiss you until tomorrow." 

"Shh…" Gulf pats his arm. "I thought maybe you forgot about the extra practice na. P'Jane, are we going to do full rehearsal at some point?" 

P'Jane stands beside them again. "Eager na kha, Yai Nong?"

Mew can see the tips of Gulf's ears turn red. "Well, don't we need to know the, you know," Gulf looks frantically at Mew, waving his hand to encourage an answer. "The pacing? No, that's not what I mean. The rhythm. You know, how long to kiss, when to go soft and when to build it? Right na, Khun Phi?" 

P'Jane shrugs. "I'll check the schedule." 

Gulf looks back at Mew. "Khun Phi doesn't want to kiss?" His voice is so small all of a sudden. Now that P'Jane is gone, Mew can sense the vulnerability coming from his Yai Nong.

Mew closes the space between them, wrapping his arms around the small of his back. "How can you ask such a thing? I always find it helpful to kiss for real, you know that." 

"So, Khun Phi does want to kiss me?" 

Mew laughs, really laughs. He can't believe his junior is asking such a ridiculous question. Yes. Of course he wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him every day, every hour. He wants to tell him so, too. But of course he can't. He looks at the indignant expression on Gulf's face and laughs again. He touches his cheek and presses their foreheads together. 

"Yai Nong…" he struggles to stop laughing. "I can't believe you would doubt…"

"Well, you didn't speak up when I asked P'Jane," he whines. Mew loves hearing his voice get soft and ducky. Petulant little Gulf. He could kiss him right now. 

P'Jane returns. "If we do full rehearsal, we won't get to go through it as many times." 

Gulf nods. "We can do it. Right, Khun Phi?" 

"Khrab." He looks at P'Tee, who's currently opening a bottle of headache medicine. "Is that good for you na, P'Tee?" 

Their director dry swallows two pills. "Why ask me na khrab? I've never been able to stop you two from kissing before."

Mew catches Gulf's eye and smirks. Gulf pretends to look innocent, but ends up laughing. 

"From the top, you two," says P'Jane. 

The room isn't the one where they'll be shooting. It's one of the honeymoon suites, and they've moved the furniture to replicate Type's bedroom. 

Gulf was right to request a full rehearsal. The first run-through is a disaster "Ow!" Mew pulls back and touches his lip. Did Gulf just bite him? 

"Sorry na, Khun Phi!" Gulf brushes Mew's bottom lip with his thumb. "I lost track of the rhythm and then I don't know." 

He sighs and smacks Gulf's hand out of the way. He grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Their lips meet hastily, but they soften as Mew moves against him. Gulf catches on quickly, matching his pace and intensity. He's always so good at that, at feeling out what Mew is doing and meeting him exactly where he is. And skill aside, Gulf is one hell of a kisser. Mew's known this from the start. He wants to keep going, but there was a point he was trying to make… somewhere. He smiles against Gulf's lips and pulls back. 

Mew looks at his costar, his lips pouty and his eyes soft. "That's the rhythm," he tells him. "Got it na?" 

His junior nods and touches his lips. "Khrab." 

"F-from the top," says P'Jane. 

The second time is a different kind of disaster. 

Mew runs his hands under Gulf's thighs in preparation to lift him. He waits for Gulf's arms to wrap around his neck before he hoists him up. 

"Ugh."

"Khun Phi?"

"No grunting." 

"Heavy!" Mew staggers and they collapse onto the bed. Gulf's arms are still around his neck, and they stare at each other, breathing heavily into each other's faces. 

"Sorry," Mew tells him, leaning his forehead against his. "Didn't lift properly." 

Gulf squirms against him. "Gotta be careful, since I'm so heavy na."

"Come on," Mew gets up and helps Gulf stand on the bed. "Let me get used to your weight again." He beckons for his junior to climb into his arms. 

Gulf rolls his eyes and hugs him around the neck once more. Mew touches the back of Gulf's thighs, trying his best to ignore the sharp breaths from his co-star as he eases Gulf's legs around his waist. He straightens up and takes a few steps, adjusting to the heft of his Yai Nong. It’s been so long since he last lifted him.

"Heavy?" Asks Gulf. 

"How many of those pork rinds did you eat?" 

"All of them." 

Mew smacks his ass. "I spoil you too much." 

Gulf laughs and tightens his hold around Mew's neck. He sets him down and nods at P'Jane. 

"From the top." 

The next few times aren't as disastrous. Just some minor notes. 

"No moaning na khrab."

"Mew, watch your hands." 

"Gulf, I can still hear you moaning."

"No tongue, guys."

"Gulf, why are your hands even there?" 

"I don't know which one of you moaned, but I heard it." 

"Please na. Stop thrusting. Both of you." 

P'Jane snaps before P'Tee does. "Okay na! I just came to help with blocking. P'Tee, I'll let you sort out the rest." She sighs, but winks at them before she leaves. 

Gulf laughs into Mew's neck. Okay, so they might have been having too much fun with the scene. He looks at their poor director. 

"Sorry na khrab," Mew says, making Wai. He smacks Gulf on the arm. "We'll do it right this time." Gulf nods, still trying to stifle his laughter. 

P'Tee shakes his head. "I need sleep, guys. You can stay here and practice if you want, but I'm tired na." He signals to the rest of the staff. "Good blocking. And I'm glad Yai Nong suggested a full rehearsal, because you two have a lot to work on before we film."

Mew hangs his head. "Sorry na khrab." He hears Gulf echo his apology. 

P'Tee laughs. "Just get it sorted before tomorrow, okay na?" 

Mew watches P'Tee and the rest of the staff leave. They all keep glancing back at him and Gulf, as if expecting them to start going at it before everyone's gone. And really, can he blame them? Anytime he and Gulf do a love scene, all hell breaks loose. Hot, passionate hell.

He looks at his co-star as the last person leaves the honeymoon suite. Gulf stands by the bed, his hands clasped in front of him. He looks so small and delicate right now. Mew wants to hold him in his arms and take care of him and fall asleep with him. But more than anything, he wants to kiss him again. And again. And again. 

Gulf smirks and walks toward him. "Repeat after me na, Khun Phi: Yai Nong, you were right." 

Mew rolls his eyes. Of course Gulf would be a little shit about this. "Yai Nong, you were right."

Gulf tilts his head and smiles. "And it was a good idea for us to do a full rehearsal." 

"And it was a good idea for us to do a full rehearsal." Mew wraps his arms around Gulf's waist. 

"Especially since I can't keep my veiny hands off my delicious Yai Nong."

"Especially since I can't keep my- wait, what?" He looks down at his arms and let's go. "You know, you could just tell me to stop."

Gulf laughs and grabs his arms. "I'm just teasing, Khun Phi! I would tell you if I didn't like it." He takes Mew's arms and wraps them around himself. "Start from the top?" 

"No," Mew pulls his arm away so he can boop Gulf's nose. "Start from the bottom." He laughs and points at his co-star. Gulf makes a mocking noise and takes his mark. 

Mew thought it would be strange going through the love scene by themselves. They already lose control when there's a room full of people around them. Now they're alone. Will things get out of hand? He nods at Gulf. They both share a look of determination. They can do this. They're partners. And if there's one thing he and Gulf are good at, it's nagging each other. 

"No moaning." 

"Phi, your hands."

"No tongue."

"You used tongue first!" 

"I know, but we have to stop."

"You stop first."

"Fine."

"Why are you grabbing my butt?"

"Because you're heavy."

"Oops."

“Why are you biting again, Gulf?" 

"The camera can't see it."

"Yes, but I can feel it!" 

"I didn't know Khun Phi was so vanilla… ow! Ah…"

"Who's vanilla now?" 

"...start from the top."

They make it through two full run-throughs before they have to stop. Mew lies on the bed, his arms and back aching. His junior collapses next to him. 

"I can't feel my lips," says Gulf. Mew looks at them and sure enough, they're swollen. The sight would normally drive him crazy and make him want to kiss him even more, except his own lips are numb. He's content to just stare at them. 

"My whole body hurts now," says Mew. "You're quite the workout." 

Gulf raises an eyebrow. "No need for the gym when Yai Nong is around?" 

Mew murmurs incoherently and snuggles against his junior. At the end of the day, the shampoo smell of him has faded and what's left underneath is the fainter scent of Gulf himself. The earthy, almost plant-like smell of him. Like trees or fresh vegetables. Mew can't describe it. It's crisp in the same way his shampoo is, but without the chemical enhancements. Gulf smells like nature. 

"No need for a blanket when Yai Nong is around," Mew corrects. 

"Still need to shower."

"Okay, you join me na." 

"Khun Phi…" Gulf shakes his arm. "Behave na."

"Mai." _No._

Mew starts drifting off. He wants to stay here forever, nuzzled in Gulf's arms, holding him tight and matching his breathing. He wants to fall asleep like this and wake up like this. 

Except he can't. He can’t be asleep around Gulf. He jerks and moves away from him. Gulf stares with wide eyes and Mew can only shake his head. 

"Sorry na." He runs a hand through his hair. "You're right. Shower then sleep. We should go." He gathers his phone and room key. He tries to ignore Gulf's confused expression. 

They walk in silence back to the other bungalows. Mew tells himself they're too tired for conversation. He hopes that's how Gulf sees it. They stop at his junior's door and look at each other. 

"Thanks for the escort," Gulf teases. "See you in a few hours." 

Mew smiles and nods. "Good night na, Yai Nong. Susu na." 

His bed is cool as he slides in. The sheets are soft and smooth against his freshly showered skin and he pulls the covers up to his neck. He sighs and gathers the pillows around him. He'll never get used to sleeping alone again, but for now he's okay with his pillow nest and the warm memories of a certain smile and squishy belly and huh-huh laugh. 


	28. Hidden Sun: Who Are You in the Dark?

"Run!" Shouts Type. 

Tharn flounders for a moment, freaking out as his father-in-law lunges at him. His tiny mother-in-law tries to hold him back as he and Type jam their helmets on their heads and climb onto the scooter. 

"Bye, dad!" Type calls out. "We won't come home tonight." 

Tharn peeks from behind his boyfriend's shoulders. His parents look irritated. He hopes his hot-headed faen stops talking. 

"We'll do couple stuff somewhere a geezer can't spy on us!" 

Shia. Why does Type have to be so… Type? Why does he have to make things worse by taunting his parents? Now every time they look at Tharn, they'll be thinking about how he made their son his wife. 

"Deal with it," shouts his obnoxious boyfriend. "I won't break up with him!" 

They ride off to the sound of Type's dad yelling, "You shitty son! Come back here!" 

In retrospect, it's one of the more romantic things Type has ever done. Declaring his devotion to Tharn at the top of his lungs for all his neighbors to hear. Refusing to break up with him. Whisking him away from his terrifying father so they can do "couple stuff." 

"Cut na khrab!" P'Tee shouts through the bullhorn. Mew can barely hear it down the hill where he and Gulf are riding down on the scooter. 

Gulf stops and turns to face him. He raises an eyebrow and grins. "I feel like an action star!" 

"You're on a scooter."

"Shh, just let me have this." He grabs Mew's arms and wraps them around him. They circle around and head back up the hill. 

They spend most of the day filming scenes with Type's parents. It's almost enough to make Mew nervous, reminding him of when he first met Gulf's actual parents. 

_"P'Mew, P'Mew." Gulf cornered him as soon as he arrived to workshop one afternoon. It was after lunch, so of course it was regular Gulf who met him._

_Mew laughed and set down his bag. "I've never seen you so excited to see me. Do I owe you a soda again?"_

_Gulf rolled his eyes. "Come meet my mom." He tugged on his arm._

_Alai wa? Mew looked nervously at P'Pee as he passed him. Gulf's mom?_

_His junior led him to a stern looking woman with high cheekbones. She looked him up and down from behind her eyeglasses and gave him a thin-lipped smile._

_Mew gave her his best good boy smile and made Wai. "Sawadee-khrab, Auntie." It was customary in their culture to address the parents of their friends as Auntie and Uncle, but Mew hoped one day he could address her as Khun Mae._

_She nodded and sized him up once more. "So tall." She leaned forward and smiled. "Thank you na for helping Nong Gulf. You know how difficult he is. It's only been a short time, but he's already changed."_

_"Mae…" Gulf's voice turned especially ducky._

_She gave her son a chiding look that Mew immediately recognized. It was the same look Gulf gave him at times. "Shh, my child. You know your temperament. Your P'Mew has helped you get along better with others."_

_Mew tried not to get excited at her wording of, "your P'Mew," but his heart wasn't listening. Something like momentary panic flashed on Gulf's face, and he wondered if he had picked up on it, too._

_"Would Auntie like something to eat or drink na khrab?" Mew gestured to the snack table. "We have fruit and Oishi teas khrab."_

_She waved her hands. "No, no. I'm going home na. Your nong wanted me to stay and meet you."_

_Mew looked at his junior. His ears were red. He smiled and gave a parting Wai. "It was very nice to meet you, Auntie. Please visit often na khrab."_

_She inclined her head and leaned in again. "Don't let him have his way too much, okay na?" She patted his arm and walked off._

_Gulf pouted. "Mae?" He followed her and gestured for a hug._

_She laughed and embraced her son. "Already gave you a hug, are you a child again?" She patted his hair as Gulf kissed her cheek. "Bye-bye."_

It wasn't until they started filming that Mew met Gulf's father. 

_"Khun Phi, come meet my dad."_

_Mew froze and looked over at P'Pee. Shia. Meeting his mom was one thing, but his dad? His DAD? Dads were the scary ones. He pleaded with his eyes to P'Pee, but his friend only smirked and waved him off._

_Mew swallowed and followed his little shit of a junior to a man who could very well be Gulf in twenty years. Good God, they looked so similar. Same rounded cheeks, same smiling eyes, and same chestnut shaped lips. Mew didn't want to admit, but Gulf's dad was kind of… hot. In, you know, a dad kind of way. And when he smiled, it was like Gulf smiling._

_Again, he gave his best good boy smile and made Wai. "Sawadee-khrab, Uncle." He hoped he wasn't blushing._

_Gulf's father returned the greeting and his voice had that same soft and lilting quality as his son's. Such a gentle voice for a grown man._

_"So, this is the one we've heard so much about," said Gulf's father._

_Gulf tossed his head back and groaned. "Pho…"_ Dad.

_Mew laughed and nodded. "If he's been talking about P'Mew, then yes na khrab."_

_"Aw," his dad looked confused. "Is P'Mew the same as Khun Phi?"_

_"Shai khrab."_

_"Ah, then yes." His dad laughed and leaned in toward Mew. "You know Nong is so awkward. You really brought him out of his shell."_

_"Pho…"_

_"And he doesn't know what to do around other boys… he's shy, I think."_

_"Pho…"_

_"They all flirted with him in school, but he thought they were teasing him." He shook his head. "Can't do anything with him."_

_Gulf's ears were bright red. "Pho, why do you want to embarrass me na khrab?"_

_"Aow!" His father pointed at Mew. "As if your Khun Phi doesn't know?"_

_Again, Mew was startled by the use of "your Khun Phi," but he didn't react this time._

_"Would you like something to eat or drink na khrab?" Mew pointed to the snack table as he had done with Gulf's mom. "We have fruit and Oishi teas na khrab."_

_"Mm, Oishi? Shai, shai." He nodded and followed Mew. Gulf shook his head and patted his father on the back._

_"Your son favors you so much na khrab," he told Gulf's dad._

_"Shai, Shai," he picked up a tea and nodded. "But be careful, he has a streak of evil that he gets from his mother."_

_"I'm telling Mom."_

_"I'll leave you here."_

_"She'll pick me up."_

_"I'll tell your Khun Phi about your-"_

_"I won't tell her na!"_

_Mew laughed and clinked tea bottles with Gulf's dad. "I'll keep my guard up na khrab."_

_"No, seriously…"_

Mew remembers introducing Gulf to his mother, too. It was also during workshops, also early on. 

_She arrived at the workshop building with her designer bag and a basket full of snacks. Carried in by Bosser, of course._

_She smiled and touched his arm. "Thank you na kha, N’Bosser."_

_He grinned and made Wai._

_Mew shook his head. His mother's charm knew no end, did it? He kissed her cheek. "What brings you to workshop, Khun Mae?"_

_She smirked and set down her handbag. "I'll tell you in three seconds." She scanned the room and pointed at Gulf the second she saw him. "That one. Bring him na kha."_

_Mew startled. "Khun Mae khrab?"_

_"He's the one, yes?" She gave him that look. The look that all mothers give their sons when they know what's what._

_Mew feigned innocence. "What one na khrab?"_

_She sat down on one of the chairs, her posture perfect and elegant as always. "I told you to bring him."_

_Mew did as he was told. He always did as he was told when it came to his mother. "Uh, Nong Gulf, would you come meet my mother?"_

_Mild's eyes widened as he looked around Mew's shoulder. "Khun Mae!" He waved and made as if to run toward her. She held up a hand to stop him, her smile gentle but firm. Mew's stomach turned. What was she up to? He looked at Mild. His friend's eyes were wild with curiosity. His mouth was a perfect O as he watched Mew escort his N’Gulf toward his inevitable doom._

_His mother rose from her seat and smiled at Gulf._

_He made a slow Wai and greeted her. "Sawadee-khrab, Auntie."_

_"Sawadee-kha, luk chai."_ Hello, my son _. Mew raised an eyebrow at her. It had taken his mom months to call most of his friends that, and at least a week before calling Mild that._

_"Uh, is Auntie thirsty na khrab?" Gulf gestured toward the snack table. "I can bring you some tea na khrab. It's hot today na khrab."_

_Mew instinctively placed a hand on Gulf's back. The poor thing was nervous, and rightfully so. His mother was a kind woman, but intimidating when she wanted to be. Mild had once told him he took after his mother in that way. Hadn't the other cast members admitted they were afraid of him at first? The gesture wasn't lost on his mother. He removed his hand from Gulf's back._

_"Later," she answered, waving her hand. "Hm. So handsome na. And tall! Suppasit, he's taller than you."_

_"Auntie khrab, I think na P'Mew is taller," said Gulf._

_"You think so?" His mother compared them both. "Or do you like to think so?" She narrowed her eyes at him and smiled._

_Gulf looked away and grinned, his ears turning pink. "Shai khrab."_

_His mother gestured to the chairs behind her. "Sit with me na, luk chai." She sat and Gulf followed suit. "Suppasit, go play with Mild. I want to talk to your Nong alone."_

_Mew stared at the frightened expression on Gulf's face. He seemed to plead with him, but Mew was powerless to stop it. Whatever his mother wanted, his mother got._

_"Khrab." He mouthed the words_ I'm sorry _to Gulf._

_He watched them from the other side of the room. His mother held one of Gulf's hands and their demeanor seemed to change almost instantly. She said something to him and they started laughing. Great. They were making fun of him, weren't they?_

_"They're making fun of you, aren't they?" Asked Mild. He flung an arm around his shoulder. "Dang, Mama Jongcheveevat's rocking the new Louis Vuitton. Hey, are those snacks? Did she bring snacks?"_

_"Khrab."_

_"Yesssss…"_

_"What do you think they're talking about?"_

_Mild made a contemplative noise. "Probably about your bad temper, your awful haircut, and the barbaric way you eat."_

_"Hey!"_

_"Well, they're not talking about your dreamy eyes!" He nudged him. "She's probably asking her future son-in-law about himself. Hobbies? Career goals? Top or bottom?"_

_"Mild."_

_"Yes, dear?"_

_"Shut up."_

_"You asked…"_

_Mew sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His bad hair, apparently. He told the stylist not to cut it too short. This always happened. His hair was just too thick for its own good sometimes._

_"Look, they're laughing again," said Mild. "At least she likes him."_

_"Jealous?"_

_Mild snorted. "Mothers love me. Besides, now I'll have a brother-in-law."_

_"Quit that." Mew groaned and willed himself to look away. "What is she up to?"_

_Mild rubbed his arm. "She's looking out for you, na. She doesn't want you to get hurt."_

_"By chatting with my co-star?"_

_"By checking out your… you know."_

_"No, I don't know." He looked at Mild. "He's nothing to me but my co-star. When will people realize that?"_

_Mild laughed at him. A full, hearty laugh that seemed to go on forever. "One day you'll look back on this conversation and kick yourself."_

_When Gulf returned, he had a huge grin on his face. "Your mother says you can bring P'Mild to her na."_

_"Woohoo!" Mild ran toward her and slid across the polished floor on his knees in front of her chair. She laughed and held him by his cheeks._

_"So…" Mew tried to decipher the look on his junior's face, but they had only known each other a few weeks. "What did she say?"_

_Gulf shook his head. "She said I can't tell you until the time is right."_

_He frowned and looked at his mother. She smiled and waved. "And when the hell is that?"_

_Gulf played with his ear. "She didn't say, actually. Just that I would know." He laughed and smiled to himself. "Your mom is cool. Way cooler than you, P'Mew."_

___________________

Mew watches in horror as Gulf's fingers start to swell. Already they're red and splotchy, and Gulf's eyes are wide as he brings his hands up. 

"Phi!" 

Mew grabs them and wipes them hastily with a napkin. He holds Gulf's hands over the edge of the table and pours his glass of water over his swollen fingers to get the shrimp juice off them. A staff member brings some baby wipes for his hands and someone offers to call a doctor. 

"Can you breathe, Yai Nong?" 

"Shai, Shai khrab."

"Should we call your mother?" 

"No, it's okay na khrab."

"Do we need an epi-pen na?" 

"Where's P'Pee?"

Their senior rushes over and examines Gulf's hands. He wipes them again with fresh baby wipes and looks at his arms. "Just get some allergy medicine from the store. He'll be drowsy for a bit, but he'll be fine." He feels Gulf's neck. "You can breathe, little jackfruit?" 

Gulf nods. 

"You're good na." He pets his swollen fingers. "Shame about the scene. Who else has hands as nice as Yai Nong?" 

All the men look at their hands. Too hairy, too dark, too wrinkled, too dry, too veiny, too short. Mew looks over at their producer. "P'Boss!" He points at him on his phone. 

Bosser looks up. "Alai na?" 

P'Pee sidles up to him and runs a hand across his chest. "P'Bosser na khaaaaa… has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful hands na?" 

Bosser glares at Mew. Mew grins back. 

__________________

Everyone busies themselves around the set of Type's bedroom as they wait for Gulf's allergic reaction to fade. 

P'Pee smacks Mew on the stomach. "Are you going to do anything about your pouch?" 

Mew looks down at his stomach. "Alai na?" 

Pee lifts his shirt. "You're not going to work out or anything before you shoot? Let your abs stand out?" 

Mew rolls his eyes. "It's three seconds of being shirtless. In the dark. Not even from a good angle."

Pee shrugs. "Your call, bok choy. It's only going to be immortalized forever…" 

Mew groans and lies down on a nearby table to do some crunches. 

Run walks over with his camera and teases him. "Three hundred and fifty eight. Three hundred and fifty nine. Three hundred and sixty." 

"Stop na." Mew giggles and continues the steady rhythm of his workout. He sneaks a glance at Gulf, who stretches lazily on the bed. He makes the cutest, softest stretching noise as he reaches above his head. The sound goes straight to the part in Mew's brain that responds to any kind of pleasurable noise from Gulf. It produces a kind of heady, primal feeling in Mew that wants to savor the image of a squishy, lazy Gulf all stretched out and sleepy. The hem of his shirt rises up as he extends his arms, exposing his belly to Mew's hungry eyes. 

"Ay, P'Mew!" Someone shouts. Mew wipes at his nose and looks at his fingers. Great. A nosebleed. Could he be more obvious? 

P'Pee rushes to him with a tissue. "P'Mew is so sexy he turned himself on!" He fans himself as Mew sits up on the table. 

Run points at Gulf. "No, it was Yai Nong! Look, his shirt is pulled up!"

Gulf yanks down his shirt. He looks flustered, his eyes roaming around the room. He sits up and shakes his head at 'Run. "Don't make up stories, there's nothing to see but some baby fat." 

Mew makes a pitiful noise. He can't think about Gulf's plush and squishy belly right now. Can't think of biting into the soft flesh and licking around his belly button. "Can I get more tissue, please?" 

P'Pee claps his hands and rushes to fetch more tissues. But not before adding, "We all know how P'Mew feels about Gulf's tummy!"

Please, make it stop. 

They eventually bring him some ice for his nose. He crawls onto the bed with his junior, seeking solace from the naughty thoughts that plague him. Maybe feeling safe and warm in his arms will abate the thirst in his gut. 

Gulf is teasing him. Because of course he is. Mew tries to fight back. In the end, he chooses to curl up against that plump little patch of baby fat and nuzzle against him while his nose stops bleeding. 

_______________________

_Mew stared at the conversation on the phone. He couldn't believe what he was reading. It had to be a cruel joke. Or maybe he was the joke, and the situation was just cruel._

_** Ford ** _

_I can't tonight. Gotta spend time with New_

_** Ray ** _

**__** _Ditch him. You know you'd rather be with me_

_**Ford** _

_Don't tempt me, baby_

_** Ray ** _

_When are you gonna leave his needy ass and be all mine na?_

_** Ford ** _

_I told you, it's not that easy. He's so clingy and sulky. I'm afraid he'll hurt himself or something if I break up with him_

_** Ray ** _

_So, what, you gonna marry him then? He's a big boy, he can take it_

_** Ford ** _

_Just give me some time, baby_

_** Ray ** _

_Don't keep me waiting too long. You're not the only option I've got, you know_

_** Ford ** _

**__** _I'll do it this weekend. Promise. Then I'll be all yours._

_Mew looked up when Ford came out of the bathroom._

_"New?" His boyfriend looked at him, then at the phone in his hand. "The fuck are you doing with my phone?"_

_Mew glared at him. "Stupid me. I was going to take a selfie and leave it for you to find later." He laid the phone down on the coffee table face up to show the conversation. "But this was already open."_

_Ford glanced at the screen and narrowed his eyes at Mew. "You went snooping through my stuff?"_

_Mew was caught off guard. Ford was upset with HIM? "I just told you, I was going to leave you a selfie-"_

_"What makes you think you can just look through my stuff like that? You're like one of those girls who checks her boyfriend's messages."_

_What the fuck? Mew wondered if this was really happening. "For good reason, too. You're cheating on me!"_

_"Ugh!" Ford grabbed at the sides of his head. "You're driving me crazy, New. You're so clingy."_

_"And that's justification for cheating?"_

_"You drove me to it." He scoffed and grabbed his phone off the table. "Always so needy, never giving me any space or privacy. I just needed to be with someone less pathetic, you know?"_

_"Who's pathetic?" Mew stood up from the couch and towered over his boyfriend. Or ex, more like. "You're the one who didn't have to guts to break up with me before cheating! You're a fucking coward!"_

_"Hey," Ford held up his hands. "I didn't know if you were gonna hurt yourself or something like some sad chick."_

_Mew got in his face and glared at him. He knew exactly how scary he could be, and he relished the look of fear in Ford's eyes. "You're not worth it, asshole." He shoved him and walked out of his dorm room._

_It wasn't until he was back in his own dorm and after his roommate left for class that he cried. He gathered his pillows around him in a little nest and cried into his stuffed panda bear, wondering what was wrong with him. Was he really pathetic for wanting to be around the person he liked? For wanting to give his affection whenever possible? What was so great about withholding one's feelings? He cried until his voice was hoarse and he felt drained of tears._

"Khun Phi khrab?"

Mew groans and squeezes tighter at the softness in his arms. 

"P'Mew wake up." He feels Gulf's hands wipe at his face. "P'Mew, you're crying." 

Mew opens his eyes. Gulf looks down at him, his own eyes puffy and bleary. There's a bit of crust around his mouth. 

"Did you fall asleep, too?"

Gulf nods. "The allergy medicine knocked me out. You were crying in your sleep, Khun Phi." 

Mew sits up and gently massages around his eyes. His contacts have gone dry. "Another ghost." 

"A different one?" 

He nods. "Mm. Cheated on me because I was too clingy and needy." He brushes at his junior's lip. "Were you drooling?" 

Gulf wipes his mouth. "Heh. I guess so. That was some strong stuff." He laughs and checks his shirt for spilled drool. "Khun Phi khrab?" 

"Hm?" 

"You dated some real assholes." He sighs and lies back on the bed. "I think I'd like to be with someone who isn't afraid to show their affection. It'd be nice to know how much they like me." 

P'Pee walks over and smiles at Gulf. "Hands, baby." He examines them and smiles. "Looks like we're good to go. I'll tell P'Tee." 

________________

The delay leaves them with even less time to film the love scene. They previously had time for at least three takes, but they have to hurry in order to film the Full Moon Party after this. P'Tee turns to them.

"You know what?" he says, massaging his forehead. "Change of plans. There's no point trying to stifle your chemistry. Just remember the blocking so the camera knows where to go. Other than that, do whatever feels right. I trust you." He nods and walks off. 

Mew locks eyes with his junior. What now? All the preparation from yesterday, and suddenly it's a free-for-all? All the comments and notes from last night are suddenly out the window? Gulf's eyes are wide with confusion. What are they supposed to do? 

"P'Mew, what's the plan?" 

Mew shakes his head. "I don't have one. I guess we try to do it like last night?" 

His co-star gives him worried eyes. "Last night was a disaster. We're not very good at following rules." 

Mew sighs. Gulf is right. No matter how hard they try to behave, something seems to take over them. He racks his brain for inspiration. 

"Remember what P'Tee told us, that the most important part is the passion." 

Gulf shrugs. "Aw, P'Mew, we already have that. That's not a plan." 

"Best we've got? The question is, do we go in as Tharn and Type or as Mew and Gulf?" 

His junior scratches his head. He kicks at the air and squirms a little. "Who are you when you get carried away?" 

Mew panics. What a question to ask. Might as well be asking whose boner it was during their previous love scenes- Tharn's or Mew's? 

Mew's, definitely. 

Shia. He makes a face and looks at Gulf. "Who are you when _you_ get carried away?" 

Gulf's eyes dart around the room. He seems to realize the gravity of his question. His ears turn red and he looks away from him. "I see your point," he says in his baby voice. 

Mew laughs and wraps his arms around him. "Oh, Yai Nong! Why do you have to act cute, hm? Hm?" He sighs and rubs his back. "You don't have to tell me who, but do you know who you are when you get carried away?" 

Gulf nods. "Shai. And you? You know?"

"Shai." Mew takes a deep breath. "You're able to tell between Tharn and Mew, right?"

"Khrab."

"And I can tell between Type and Gulf." He nods. "Okay, I say we go in as whoever feels right, and we adjust from there. We're both good at matching the other."

Gulf chews nervously at his bottom lip. "This sounds risky, Phi." 

Mew releases him and smiles. "I know. But like you said, we already have passion and we're not very good at following rules." 

Gulf laughs and nods his adorable, exaggerated nod. "Khrab." He leans in close and cocks an eyebrow. "See you on the other side na." 

Mew takes his mark and closes his eyes, channeling his character. He always starts as Tharn, regardless of who gets carried away. He can feel Tharn waking up inside him, overcome with love for his boyfriend. His boyfriend who brought him home to meet his parents. Who defied his father and shouted for the whole island to hear that he would never break up with him. And his boyfriend who wants to make love to him in his bed tonight. 

Tharn watches as Type crawls onto the mattress. He catches him around the waist, pulling him back against him. How is it that Type's body fits so perfectly in his arms? His hand reaches for Type's heart, the way his lover always reaches for his. His hand covers his own, acknowledging the gesture, the silent and unspoken declaration that this- his heart- belongs to Tharn, just as Tharn's heart belongs to Type. 

He kisses the back of his neck, working his way to his cheek. Type turns around and Tharn wants to kiss his forehead, but his stubborn boyfriend isn't acquiescing. He's been trying to act so strong since they arrived, trying to take care of Tharn, unwilling to let himself be taken care of, the way he does at home. But Tharn's not having it. He eases his head down to kiss him and show him that he doesn't have to be strong for both of them, that they can be strong together. 

They search for each other's lips in the dark, and it's Type who finds him first. The kiss is so soft compared to the hasty way his boyfriend peels off his shirt, eager to grip him by his bare shoulders. Their kisses grow more insistent, and Tharn dives once more toward the soft and supple skin of his lover's neck. 

His hands reach down to grab at his hips, squeezing hard and urging him upwards. Type takes the hint and wraps his arms around his neck, allowing himself to be carried.

The motion is fluid and flawless, and Mew can't help the small grunt as the heft of his co-star settles against his body. His back and arms are still sore, but he wouldn't trade this moment for the world. He carries Gulf over to the dresser, and his breath shakes despite his best efforts. It has nothing to do with Gulf's weight, and everything to do with how overwhelming this moment is. 

All this time, his mind's been focused on the blocking and the rules, and he never stopped to think about how meaningful this action is. That Type, of all people, would allow himself to be carried this way. To surrender so completely to someone, to trust Tharn so implicitly. And for Type to be so accepting of his pretend role of "wifey," being pampered and carried, when all it really means is that Type likes being cherished. And god, Tharn will cherish him for the rest of his lovesick life.

He sets him on the dresser, tracing his way back down Type's neck. He can't even tell who enjoys it more these days. Type's skin is salty from the beach, and he wants to taste the ocean on him. How badly he wants to return to those lips that drive him crazy, but tonight isn't about rushing. If this is their only chance to be together as a couple on this god forsaken island, Tharn will make it last. Tharn will make it so Type will never regret bringing him here. This won't be a quick bang in his childhood bedroom. Tharn will make love to him everywhere Type has ever called home. 

Tharn loves the way Type's hands never stay still on his body. Always grabbing, caressing, scratching. Always surprisingly light touches that hint at Type's true nature, the gentle and loving Type that only Tharn gets to see. Mew wonders if this was a conscious decision on Gulf's part, or if this is how he would touch, too. 

He slides his hand up Gulf's thigh as he kisses his way toward his cheeks and softly presses his lips to his eyelid. He loves Gulf's captivating Bambi eyes, but he also loves those eyes closed and serene whenever they kiss. He can't take it anymore, he just has to taste those lips again. He keeps expecting them to taste like beer, but Mew remembers that it was water in those bottles for the scene on the beach. Gulf tastes like cherries with a bitter edge. Like the liquid allergy medicine. And yet he keeps returning for more, noticing how tightly his costar squeezes his arm as their lips find each other once more. It seems he has his answer- Type is the gentle one, Gulf isn't. And Mew can't help the tiny moan that escapes him. Just knowing that for a moment, it was Gulf who broke through his character and grabbed him makes him feel delirious and he has to keep going with the scene before he loses it completely. He finds Gulf's neck, swiping his tongue across the skin to taste the salt and the waves, feeling Type- no, Gulf- grab at his hair. Just for a second, before Gulf realizes that Type wouldn't be so rough, but Mew knows exactly who it was. Because Type is the gentle one, and Gulf isn't. And god, he loves that Gulf isn't. 

He feels arms wrap around him and he walks them backwards to the bed. Back and back until he's seated and Type is straddling his lap, rising up on his knees and Mew realizes it isn't Type at all. Type would stay down and press their foreheads together. It's what they did in rehearsal. But this- this is Gulf, and Mew can feel that familiar ache between his legs as he slips his hands underneath Gulf's shirt, relishing the softness of his skin and scratching ever so lightly. Gulf's fingers run through his hair, gently this time. Ever since they first rehearsed Type playing with Tharn's hair, Mew has wanted to feel it again and again. 

It's Type who eases him down on the bed, pressing soft kisses to his neck as he does so. It's Type who roams his chest, taking in his scent. But it's Gulf whose hands press down hard and grab at his shirt, and when Type clutches at Tharn's heart, it's Gulf who looks down at him with such earnestness in his eyes. Those round and intense Bambi eyes that captivated him back in workshop. And it's Gulf's soft voice speaking with Type's staccato speech pattern, asking if they should switch roles. It's Mew who stares at his co-star in wonder while Tharn teases his boyfriend and flips them over. 

Looking down at the person under him, Tharn sees the love of his life. Everything he could ever want for the rest of his existence is staring back at him, and he can't imagine a world in which he doesn't love Type. Mew wonders what he sees when he looks down at Gulf. This can't be a mere crush anymore, and yet he doesn't know if it's love. But he thinks Gulf could be his salvation. 

"Tonight, I'm going to be your husband." 

There's something in Type's smirk that hints at Gulf, and as Mew takes off his shirt, he looks down and sees something he's never quite seen before. Something not wholly Type and not wholly Gulf. Not one with the other peeking through. But both. Both Type and Gulf, looking at him with such an open expression of trust. A word comes back to him from their scene with the five kisses. 

_Surrender._

And it's not Mew who responds, and it's not Tharn, either. He feels the duality of them in this moment, mirroring the person staring back at him. Who are you when you get carried away? And he sees it now, sees that it's never been one or the other- that Tharn and Type could never follow the rules, just as Mew and Gulf can't. Won't. Because their chemistry is what fictions are based on, and no reality can contain it. It exists in both worlds, because Mew can't imagine a world in which he doesn't adore Gulf, and in which Gulf doesn't save him. 

They kiss because they were always meant to kiss, whether as Tharn and Type or Mew and Gulf. They kiss because they have to, whether by script or by fate, and Mew doesn't care, because in this moment it's Gulf in his arms and Gulf kissing him back. He can't help the way he rocks against him, feeling his partner's desire hard against his thigh, feeling the passion in his kiss and the yielding way he exposes his neck. His hand presses down on Gulf's hip, so hard he fears he might bruise. And the dark and selfish part of Mew loves the thought of it, of leaving a mark on his flesh, of leaving a memory for Gulf to feel when he's alone. He wants this scene to go on forever, for it to be real. He wants more, and he knows he can't have it, and that it's never enough. And he wants to know if Gulf feels the same, and that he's really seeing him. Not a fantasy, but Gulf wanting him back, because he's completely lost to him. He was so wrong. It wasn't Gulf who surrendered. It was Mew. 

"Cut."

Mew looks down at his junior. His eyes are round and beautiful. Bambi eyes that search his face for answers. Mew doesn't have any of those, only questions. 

"It's a wrap," says P'Tee. "That was perfect." 

Gulf looks into his eyes, a playful smile on his chestnut lips. "Khrab." 

In another life, Mew might have leaned down and kissed him again. He might have whispered how his heart races for him. Instead he asks him, "Who were you when you got carried away?" 

"Yours." 


	29. Hidden Sun: Tomorrow

Mew lies alone in his room, thoughts and memories from the love scene swimming through his mind. In his head he can see flashes of moments when they were Mew and Gulf, when it was just the two of them creating something beautiful. It had to be real, right? It had to be real. 

He can't forget what Gulf said. Who were you when you got carried away? 

_Yours_. 

He closes his eyes and clutches a pillow to his chest. There's a deep and throbbing ache that his stupid and reckless heart knows all too well. If this keeps going, he's going to fall so inescapably in love with Gulf that he fears there won't be a next time. He's never felt like this so quickly and so intensely and it frightens him. If he and Gulf aren't it, or if he fucks it up, he doesn't think he'll ever recover. Not after this. His heart won't be able to take it. 

It feels incomplete. Everything happened so fast. As soon as P'Tee called cut, they dragged Gulf to town to film the Full Moon party scenes, leaving Mew shaken and bereft. And now he's alone in his room, while Run and P'Pee are at the shoot. He has nobody with him except his fears and doubts and the suffocating, intoxicating, and terrifying knowledge that he's falling in love with Gulf. 

He's so fucked. 

A knock on his door startles him. Who the hell is even left at the resort? He opens the door to find Run out of breath. 

Run takes one look at him. "Take your clothes off," he says.

"Alai wa?" 

"You can't go dressed like that." He pushes his way inside and reaches for Mew's luggage. "Here, at least put on this track jacket."

Mew stands in the open doorway, arms crossed and feet bare. "What are you up to na?" 

Run tosses the jacket at him. "No time! Your hair is atrocious, Phi. Ah! Here, put on this hat." 

"It's night." 

Run sighs and shoves the hat at his chest. "Yes, but we can still see that mess you call hair." He decides between two pairs of shoes by the door. "Those. Put them on, hurry na!" 

Mew does as he's told, trying to put the hat, jacket, and shoes on at the same time. "What's the matter?" 

His friend grabs his room key and drags him outside, slamming the door behind him. "You have to see this." 

"See what?" 

The shuttle ride to town is aggravating. Run tries his best to powder Mew's face as they get jostled by the bumpy roads. He pinches Mew's cheeks to bring color to them and fishes out some tinted balm for his lips. 

"I just took off my makeup twenty minutes ago and you're putting it back on?" 

"Trust me, you'll thank me na."

Mew sighs and lets his junior doll him up. At least he's not alone with his thoughts anymore. And seeing a frantic Run is always amusing. "What are you taking me to see, anyway?" 

It's not until they reach the set and he sees the two forms of Kaprao and Gulf at a table that Run finally answers him. "That," he says, pointing at Gulf. He grabs a paintbrush and starts writing on his neck. 

"Alai?" 

"Here, now you're in character. It says Tharn. He's here to check on his wifey."

Mew sighs and tries to hide behind the camera. This is ridiculous. All Mew can see of Gulf is his dark hair and a white button up shirt. Did Run really drag his lovesick ass to watch him shoot a 20 minute scene? He can't even see his face. Not until Kaprao points at him and Gulf turns to look. 

That. That's what Run brought him to see. Gulf's shirt unbuttoned low, his beautiful face decorated with glow-in-the-dark paint. The word fux written on his chest. He looks radiant and sinful and delicious. God, Mew is going to lose his shit. 

Run pushes him toward their table. "Fetch." 

Mew touches the spot on his neck where it says Tharn. He's not here as Mew. He can do this. He's already been spotted, anyway. 

He gets to the table and god, Gulf looks even more devastating up close. The glow-in-the-dark paint accentuates his cheekbones and enhances the absolutely alluring way he looks tonight. 

Tharn leans in toward his faen, taking in the faded scent of his shampoo. "Hmm…" he whispers in his ear. "You look so enticing tonight, Tua-aeng." 

He pulls away in time to see Gulf close his eyes, as if relishing his words. Is he really having an effect on him? 

Mew feels just bold enough to run his finger along the opening of Gulf's shirt, right at the edge of where fabric meets skin. "You'll dress like this for strangers, but not your faen?" 

Gulf swallows hard. He brushes Tharn's hand aside. "I can dress how I want. You get to see me without clothes." If only.

Kaprao clears his throat. "I'm gonna get more fake beer. You two continue to eye fuck." 

Mew chuckles and returns his attention to Gulf. He hopes things haven't gotten awkward. "Well, now that that's done, how are you?" His tone is normal now. An attempt at mitigating any weirdness between them.

Gulf seems to have picked up on the shift in demeanor. He shrugs and looks down at his open shirt. "Honestly, I feel a little slutty." 

"Oh?" 

Gulf gives him a look that renders him speechless. "Yeah, and I kind of like it." He hops down from his stool and walks off. 

Mew stands there motionless. Powerless. His cheeks are burning and there's a pang in his stomach that echoes in his groin. He's so fucked. 

At the last minute, Gulf looks back and sees Mew spellbound with his mouth open. A grin appears on his chestnut lips and Mew knows he's done for. 

He finds P'Mame behind the camera and sits with her. "Type already has a hubby," he says matter-of-factly. "Why did he dress like that?" 

She rolls her eyes. "Type's hanging out with his friend. But why are you here na?"

He makes a face as if to show it's obvious why he's here. "I'm here to keep an eye on my wifey!" 

P'Mame laughs and shakes her head. "We both know that's not true, don't we?" 

He sighs loudly and rests his head on her shoulder. 

"How bad?" She asks. 

Mew takes her hand and presses it to the rapid beating of his heart. 

"Yikes."

"I know."

She giggles, pressing further against his chest. "Wow, you're fucked." 

Mew laughs out loud. He loves whenever P'Mame curses. He never expects her to, even though the woman has written some seriously smutty shit. 

He looks up and smiles. "Did you know before I did?" 

She raises an eyebrow at him. "I cast you two as Tharn and Type, didn't I?" 

"What, you knew back then?" He leans back and scratches his head. "Couldn't have been back then." 

"And why not?" She pats his arm. "Are you telling me you didn't feel something that day? Because we all saw it. Fuck, we felt it." 

He grins at her curse word. "I suppose na you're right."

"Of course I am." She laughs and pats his knee. "I write this shit for a living, remember? I know it when I see it." 

He looks over at Gulf, admiring him from a distance. "You picked one hell of a Type." 

P'Mame chuckles. "All I did was give him the role." She smiles and pokes his arm. "You're the one who picked him." 

_____________________

_Mew sighed and put his phone away. Dax cancelled their date again. He was starting to think the guy didn't like him, except he would always reschedule and do something extra romantic to make up for it. And really, could he blame him, being a medical student and all? But this time was especially disappointing. He'd been looking forward to this restaurant for weeks._

_Fuck it. He grabbed his keys and decided to go alone. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who never did anything because he had to wait for his faen._

_The restaurant was packed, but that didn't stop Mew from spotting Dax at a table with a woman. Fuck. He wouldn't… Mew fought to control the anger that started boiling inside him. Maybe it was a study thing. Maybe she was his lab partner. Maybe it was a dinner interview for an internship._

_Maybe the cheating bastard was on a date._

_He stood there, staring at his boyfriend, who was smiling and laughing with this woman. If only Dax weren't bisexual, he wouldn't be this jealous. He was just about to leave when the asshole noticed him._

_"New?"_

_Fuck._

_Dax stood and looked awkwardly back and forth between him and the woman. She turned and looked at him, and Mew knew instantly that he had lost. She was stunning. There was no way for him to compete with her. God, it hurt just to look at her, and not because he was jealous, but because hell, he was bi, too. And she was breathtaking._

_Double fuck._

_"New," Dax repeated. But Mew was already heading outside. Why did this keep happening to him? Was he just not good enough to be faithful to?_

_Dax caught up to him in the parking lot. "New, baby, it's not what you think."_

_Mew turned to face him. Wasn't it? He'd seen this show too many times. He knew what cheating looked like._

_The sound of footsteps brought their attention to the woman. Just the sight of her made Mew feel inadequate. She was even more beautiful up close. Her fierce and penetrating eyes looked back at him and her full lips were parted with a question hanging from them. And fuck, she was tall. Really tall, probably a model or something. And now Dax would be able to compare them side by side, and Mew was so done being second place._

_The woman raised an eyebrow as she approached. "I took care of the check. Everything okay?"_

_Dax reached for her hand. "It's not what you think it is."_

_She laughed and pulled her hand back. "And just what do I think it is?" Her piercing eyes studied his face._

_He only stared, open mouthed, unsure of what to say. "Um… nothing. This is my friend, New." Friend? Mew looked at the woman and frowned. It was definitely clear who Dax had chosen to make up with. Not that he would have forgiven him if he had been chosen. It just would have been nice._

_She smirked at Dax and crossed her arms. "Are you cheating on me?" She had all the intensity of someone asking what time it was. Damn, she was cool._

_Mew could feel the irritation at the back of his head, prickly and annoying. So, he was right. He was back where he always ended up. Cheated on. "Yes," Mew answered for his boyfriend. Ex, more like._

_She scoffed. "Technically, he's cheating on both of us." She glared at Dax. "You pig. You're such a fucking stereotype. You make us bisexuals look bad."_

_Mew closed his eyes and sighed. "Fuck, you're right. Seriously, Dax?"_

_"Hey!" He looked back and forth between them again._

_The woman looked at Mew and eyed up and down. "You, too?"_

_"What, bi?" Mew felt his cheeks flush. "Yes."_

_She smiled and brushed Dax to the side. "That's the best news I've heard all night. Are you hungry, handsome?"_

_"Me?"_

_"Him?" Dax looked incredulous._

_The woman pressed a hand to Dax's mouth. "Shh. We're done with you. Aren't we, cutie?" She smiled at Mew. He gulped and nodded. Was she trying to make Dax jealous?_

_She reached for Mew's hand. "As it happens, our food arrived right before I settled the check." She led him back toward the restaurant._

_"Wait," called Dax. "You're fucking kidding, right? You two are just gonna go off and have dinner together? You're fucking besties now?"_

_She turned and smirked. "It's called a date, sweetie. We're both newly single, and he's hotter than you, anyway."_

_He snorted back at her. "Congratulations on buying dinner for my reject of an ex, then." He cocked his head at Mew. "Careful, he's a cryer."_

_She laughed and threw a jacket at him. "I said I took care of the check, but you're the one who paid. Your wallet was in the pocket."_

_"You bitch."_

_She tugged on Mew's arm toward the door. She waved at Dax over her shoulder. "Thanks for dinner!"_

_Mew stared at the gorgeous woman across the table from him. He didn't expect her to actually invite him to eat with her. She was taking this jealousy game all the way._

_"You're quiet," she said. She spooned some yellow curry onto his plate. "Eat up, handsome."_

_"Thanks na."_

_"Is it true?" She took a sip of water. "Are you a cryer?"_

_Yes. But Mew wasn't going to admit it. "No."_

_She grinned. "Ah, so you are. That's adorable." She winked at him. "I like a man who's in touch with his feelings."_

_Speaking of which. He stared at her, dumbfounded. "Aren't you hurt? You were dating him, too."_

_"And now I'm not."_

_Mew wasn't sure what to think of this woman, for her to easily discard someone she supposedly cared about._

_She saw the look on his face and sighed. "I'm not heartless, you know." She laid her hands on the table. "I really liked him. But I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to waste my time crying over people who hurt me. It just means they win."_

_Mew could understand the logic in that. He looked into her sharp eyes and saw, for just a moment, a hint of vulnerability. But just as quickly, it was gone, and she was back to her intimidating self._

_They talked about a lot of things. Hobbies, interests, school. It actually felt like a real date at some point. Mew hadn't gone out with a woman in a while, now that he thought about it. The last time was somewhere between First and Dax. He had forgotten how fun it was to date women. Mew normally liked them cute and adorable. Usually with short hair, whereas hers was long and sleek and shiny. Despite her not being his type, he found himself drawn to her sultry voice and elegant movements. Her confidence and assertiveness excited him. There was something about her that made his heart pound and his stomach twist with anticipation. It was the quickest he had ever crushed on someone._

_He walked her home, because it was the polite thing to do, and not at all because of the fluttering in his gut. Not at all because of the dryness in his mouth or the flush in his cheeks. Not at all because he wanted to kiss her._

_She stopped outside a condo building. "Thanks for salvaging my evening," she said, grinning._

_"I should be saying that to you," he told her. "This was better than any real date I've ever been on."_

_"Real?" She laughed. "Wasn't this a real date? It was for me."_

_Mew was shocked. He laughed out of nervousness and searched her face for answers. "Um, I didn't know? I thought you were making Dax jealous."_

_"For what purpose?" She smiled and took his hand. "Did you not want to be on a real date with me?"_

_"Of course I did." The answer came too quickly, too earnestly. "I just didn't think you'd be into me."_

_She laughed again and tugged on his hand. "Into you… under you. We have options."_

_He looked at her with wide eyes, silenced yet again by her boldness. God, it was turning him on. She reached for his neck and brought him in for a kiss and he thought he had been set on fire. His entire being felt hot and exhilarated by her touch. Her lips were commanding and demanding, and Mew wanted more than anything to yield to her desires. He kissed her back, cheeks flushing, chest tightened, and with a frantic and insistent ache in his pants._

_When they parted, she whispered against his lips, "Come up to my room, if you dare."_

_Mew was speechless, as he was beginning to think he would always be around her. "A-are you sure na? You hardly know me. I don't even…" a sudden realization came to him. It seemed to occur to her, too._

_She smirked and wiped her lipstick from his mouth. "Ah, yes. Where are my manners?" She kissed him one more time, softly and delicately. "My name is Fasai."_

__________________

It's their last day on Samet Island, and Mew wonders how much this trip will change things once they get back home. The love scene is still so fresh in his head, and yet he and Gulf have been dancing around it all morning. The skinship is there, as always, but it's as if that moment had never happened. And maybe that's for the best.

They sit side by side at the long dining table, legs leaning against each other. Breakfast this morning is congee. 

Gulf turns to him, holding out his spoon. "Gin, gin na," he orders. _Eat, eat_.

Mew looks down at the spoon and smiles. It reminds him of the first time Gulf fed him back in workshop. When he had to teach his newbie co-star how to feed someone. He leans forward and opens his mouth. How natural it is now, seeing Gulf bring the spoon to his lips, his eyes watching him intently. He stops just near enough for Mew to close the distance as Gulf tips the spoon into his mouth. The congee is thick and warm and savory. He feels a heat in his belly as he looks at Gulf's amorous expression, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of the porridge. 

Mew licks his lips and smiles at him. "You got pretty good at this." 

Gulf grins back, taking a napkin and dabbing at the side of Mew's mouth. "I learned from the best." 

"Sit with me on the ferry," he blurts out. He didn't mean to bring it up out of nowhere, but something in him was scared that if he didn't say it then, he never would. He laughs nervously at Gulf's startled expression.

His co-star smiles and nods. "Khrab." 

___________________

** Eye **

I heard Phi lost his shit when the pretty one had his shirt open

** Mew **

Ok, who's your informant? Run or Pee?

** Eye **

Please. Snitches get stitches. Fess up na about the shirt. A woman knows.

** Mew **

Then why bother asking?

** Eye **

Because you want to talk to someone about it, obviously. 

** Mew **

Mai ao 

I don't want to.

** Eye **

Yes, you do

** Mew **

I'm not texting about this so that you can take screenshots

** Eye **

Fair. Group slumber party it is. I'll rally the troops. 

** Mew **

Wait, no!

** Eye **

Too late. Already asked P’Fasai. She's in.

** Mew **

...it's been five seconds. How did you…

No. 

Eye, did you…?

** Eye **

Calm down na, we're having brunch 

** Mew **

Nong, be careful na khrab

** Eye **

Of what? You make her sound like a bad person

** Mew **

She's a wonderful person. Just…

** Eye **

Alai na?

Mew sighs and runs a hand through his hair. How should he phrase this?

** Mew **

It's very easy to fall for Fasai. Be sure you know what you're doing.

** Eye **

Well, Shia. I wish you had told me that yesterday before I slept with her… 

** Mew **

Alai wa???

** Eye **

LMAO. You're too easy. It's just brunch! Go flirt na with the cherub. We'll see you tonight. 

Mew shakes his head. Just brunch. What a lie. What's next, Eye saying that she and Fasai are just phi and nong? He hasn't even spoken to Fasai much but he already knows something's going on between them. He saw it the first time they met. Chemistry like that doesn't go unnoticed. A woman may know things, but a BL actor knows things, too. Luckily, he doesn't have the usual sense of foreboding as he does when someone falls for Fasai. Still, that's no reason to assume that things will be any different than before. Just as his curse is to be cheated on, Fasai has her own relationship curse. 

He finishes packing his bags and does a final look around the room. He double checks that the moon shell is still wrapped in a towel in his duffel bag before leaving. 

He and Gulf sit close on the ferry. His freshly showered shampoo smell circles around his head, leaving Mew feeling euphoric. He wants to press his nose to Gulf's cheek and breathe in his scent. He doesn't even care about his acne. As far as he's concerned, it's just another part of him. 

They still haven't acknowledged the love scene. Maybe they never will. Maybe it will only exist in his memory, a perfect moment that he'll always keep. 

_____________________

_"No," said Fasai. She said it plainly and calmly. "New Suppasit Jongcheveevat was scheduled for today, and he'll be seen today." She looked at the receptionist with all the intensity of someone shopping for socks. Mew knew this as stage one: casual refusal of bullshit._

_"I'm sorry na khrab," said the receptionist. He looked through some papers. "They had to reschedule half the models khrab."_

_She shrugged. "Then you should have no problem rescheduling someone else and putting New Suppasit back on the correct day."_

_"I'm afraid I can't do that."_

_She smiled and looked at his clipboard. "Sure you can. If…" she read a name upside down from the schedule. "If Lock called and said he couldn't make it today, you would reschedule him."_

_He snickered at her. "That's not really how it works."_

_Mew took a deep breath. They were transitioning to stage 2, added pressure. She smiled again, but it looked much different this time. Sharper and fiercer and almost hostile. And yet still unmistakably a smile._

_"It doesn't have to be the way it works in order for you to do it."_

_"Ma'am, I understand that you're upset, but there's nothing I can do."_

_She crossed her arms. "I just told you what you can do. I'll wait here while you call Lock."_

_"Ma'am…"_

_Stage 3: intimidation. She leaned forward on the counter, causing the receptionist to lean back. "The choice is yours," she told him. "You can deal with Lock or you can deal with me."_

_He snorted, his smug face grinning at her. "I'll take my chances with you, miss."_

_Mew could see her eyes light up. She was hoping for a response like that. Mew sank into his seat, afraid of what would come next._

_Stage 4: crazy. She slapped the counter with the flat of her hand. "What do you mean you can't reschedule us for tomorrow?" She asked loudly. "Someone told us the casting director isn't even here today! They said half the models got priority rescheduling for when he'll be here tomorrow."_

_The receptionist stared at her, shocked and confused. Mew noticed the other guys in the waiting room looking up from their phones._

_"Don't lie to me!" Fasai continued. "My friend knows one of the staff members and she said the auditions today will only be seen by an assistant. I want my boyfriend on the list for tomorrow with the casting director!"_

_"Tha-that's not true!" The receptionist looked around the room at all the guys talking to each other._

_"Are you calling my friend a liar? Huh?" She slapped the counter again. "She said she checked it this morning and there were still five spots left for tomorrow."_

_The receptionist's eyes were huge, his body tense and shaky. "What are you talking about? I already told you he's scheduled for tomorrow!"_

_She sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "Thank you. Was that so hard?" She looked at Mew. "I told you there were still spots, didn't I?" She grabbed his hand and led him out of the waiting room. Guys started lining up at the receptionist counter as they left. Mew could hear the receptionist telling everyone the rumor was false, but enough of them didn't want to take the chance._

_They hid in an alcove where there were vending machines and disconnected payphones. Fasai set a timer for ten minutes._

_Mew laughed and shook his head. "I can't believe you did that."_

_She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "It was bullshit that they rescheduled you. Plus we both have exams tomorrow."_

_"How did you even come up with that lie about the casting director?"_

_She shrugged. "I just needed to give those boys a compelling reason to switch to tomorrow."_

_He took her hand and kissed it. "You didn't have to do all that."_

_"Of course I did." She waved him off. "You're my boyfriend and I care about you. Why wouldn't I do my best to make you happy?" She pulled him in and kissed his lips. Mew was always surprised by how tenderly she could kiss sometimes. It left him feeling light and giddy._

_Ten minutes later, they returned to the waiting room, where the casting director was happy to audition anyone who was still there. The receptionist begrudgingly added Mew's name to the schedule. Fasai brought him a large coffee and a pastry from the shop around the corner._

_"You understand, I'm sure," she told him, sliding her peace offering across the counter. "Love makes you do crazy things. Besides, look at him. He's gorgeous. You know they'll pick him."_

_Mew felt his face flush and his palms sweat. Fasai had no fear._

_The receptionist sighed and took a sip of the coffee. "He's beautiful."_

_Fasai held out her hand. "Friends na? I'll let you take a picture with him."_

_He traced the rim of the coffee cup with his finger, considering her proposal. "Okay na," he said, shaking her hand. "Friends. And I want two pictures."_

"P'Mew khrab?"

Mew’s body shifts in the van. He remembers feeling drowsy on the ride back to Bangkok and of… shia… falling asleep on Gulf's shoulder. He looks up at Gulf's large and round eyes. "Alai na?" 

"We're getting close," he tells Mew. 

"Was I…?" He has a faint recollection of feeling flustered and anxious. And of feeling loved.

"Yes," says Gulf. "You said another name this time." 

"Fasai," Mew finishes for him. He remembers now. He also remembers getting the modeling job from that audition. 

"Friend?" Gulf's voice is hesitant.

"Ex," says Mew. "But also friend. Like you and Poom." 

Gulf nods. His face is neutral and unreadable. Mew sits up and looks at him properly. What is he thinking in that complex little mind of his? 

"You still talk to her?" Asks Gulf.

He debates whether or not he should mention that he's seeing her tonight. He definitely won't mention that she'll be spending the night at his place, regardless of all the other people who will be crashing at Chez Mew for this impromptu sleepover. "Sometimes." 

Gulf nods again. "How long ago did you end things?" 

"I was in undergrad." 

His co-star lets out a deep breath. "Shia, that's a long time to be friends with an ex." He smiles, though Mew isn't sure what to make of it. "That gives me hope about me and Poom, then."

This isn't the conversation Mew wanted to have on the ride back to the city, but at least he wasn't dreaming about _him_. He reaches out and touches Gulf's arm. "Are you okay na?" 

"Shai." His eyes dance around the van. "Does Phi… want to sit more comfortably?" He shifts his weight around in the seat, though not in any discernible direction. More like a suggestion. And Mew doesn't need any further persuasion than that. 

"Come here na," he says, leaning back against his window and opening his arms for Gulf to lie against his chest. 

His junior tries to look nonchalant as he grabs his school pillow and blue blanket and curls up in Mew's embrace. The weight of him feels so familiar and comforting that he almost sighs. Instead, he wraps his arms around him, hugging him close and smiling as Gulf snuggles against his chest. 


	30. Welcome Home pt. 1

Mew can hear voices coming from his condo as he approaches the front door. Great. He's already forgotten which of his friends have keys to his place. 

"New-New!" People shout as he walks in. He's relieved to see there are only four individuals in his home: P'Pee, Eye, Fasai, and P'Bosser. 

His manager makes a beeline for him. He places Chopper into Mew's waiting arms. "Aaaaand Daddy's home. Okay na, I'm off." He waves without looking back. 

Pee rushes after him. "Diao diao, P'Bosser…" _wait, wait_. "Leaving so soon na? You just got here." He tugs on his arm. 

Bosser pleads with his eyes at Mew. Rarely does his manager look this helpless. Mew laughs and pulls Pee off of him. "P'Boss just came to feed Chopper since he left the island earlier." 

Pee smirks at him. "Well, I'm hungry, too."

Fasai drapes an arm around Pee's shoulder. "No, darling, you're thirsty." They wrinkle their noses at each other. "Let the poor man go home. It's bad enough he's already Chopper's second daddy." 

Pee wiggles his fingers at him. "You could be my Daddy, P'Boss." 

Fasai slaps Pee on the ass. "Down, boy." She turns and nods at Bosser. "Sorry na kha.." 

Mew shakes his head and escorts his poor manager to the door. 

"You said he wouldn't be here," Bosser hisses at him. 

Mew winces. "I didn't know! They sprung it on me this afternoon after you already left." 

"He keeps asking me out."

"I know. I'm sorry na khrab."

P'Boss sighs and fishes out his car keys. "One of these days I might just say yes…"

"P'Boss!" Mew covers Chopper's ears. "Not in front of the baby. You know he's a snitch." 

His manager gives him a look. "You know he's a dog, right?" 

"You know P'Pee's a man, right?" 

Bosser groans and walks off. "I'm leaving na." 

Mew shakes his head again and snuggles Chopper against his chest. "So many people are thirsty for Uncle Bosser." He kisses him on the top of his head and inhales the scent of his oatmeal doggy shampoo. He missed being at home. 

"Phi…" Eye calls over to him. "Come on na! You're violating the dress code." She points at his jeans and tee shirt. 

P'Pee walks up in his silky black PJs and boops Mew on the nose with his finger. "Welcome home, eggplant." He winks and takes Chopper from him.

Eye rushes over. "Phi!" She throws her arms around his neck and squeezes tightly. He laughs at her dark green pajamas with E=mc2 written all over them. She leans in and whispers in his ear, "I know we're here to give you support, but is there any way I can run a physics problem by you later?" 

He laughs and nods at her. "Shai, shai." 

Last is Fasai. Her smile is wide and radiant and lovely. She still reminds him of that girl from years ago. Her sleep clothes consist of grey pajama pants, a white tank top, and a long bathrobe made from the same grey material as her pants. Her embrace feels like home, and Mew inhales the Arabian Jasmine scent of her perfume. 

She touches his cheek. "Love looks good on you, New-New."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not in love na." He brings his bags to the bedroom. 

Fasai lingers in the doorway, watching him empty his duffel. "Maybe not, but you're definitely falling. Don't deny it." 

He sighs and sets his toiletries bag on the dresser. "I don't deny it." He sits on the chair near his bed and groans. "What am I doing, Fasai?"

"Unpacking."

He snorts. "Glad to see you're still a smartass."

"You're unpacking your past, you dick." She laughs and leans against the dresser next to him "If I know you, you've been analyzing your previous relationships looking for an excuse not to pursue this one. Am I right?"

Why does she bother asking? She's always right. He rests his head against her arm. "Yes." 

"Well, quit it," she orders. "It won't do you any good to augment yourself to suit your previous lovers. If this cherub is the right one, he'll love you for being you." 

She has a point. She always has a point. But what else is he supposed to do? "Shouldn't I try to learn from my mistakes?" 

"Of course." She pushes him off and rummages through his dresser drawers. She pulls out a pair of pajamas with panda bears and tosses them at him. "The problem is, you keep looking at your exes' mistakes and mistaking them for your own." She smiles and heads back to the living room. 

Fuck. He buries his head in his hands. Falling in love with Gulf is by far the dumbest thing he's ever done. All of his doubts circle around his head. Age difference. Unequal experience. Might not return his feelings. Might not like men. Professionalism. He wonders why any of his friends even support their pairing. 

"Come, spinach," says P'Pee. He stands by the door, filing his nails. "I'm sick of playing third wheel. I do it enough with you and the pretty one." 

Mew sits up. He almost forgot he had to keep an eye on Fasai. What is she even thinking? He groans and begins to undress. 

"Dinner and a show," says P'Pee. 

Mew can't help but laugh. "You see me in my underwear all the time, Khun Head Of Costuming."

"Yes, well…" he waves his hand. "It never gets old." 

He rolls his eyes and puts on the pajamas. "Status report on Eye and Fasai?" 

"Sis. Let me tell you na." He pretends to toss his hair over his shoulder. "Not only have our ladies gone to brunch together, but they went shopping afterwards." 

Mew sighs and switches into a pair of socks with pancakes on them. "I know you're holding out on me, Phi. What else have you got?" 

A sparkle appears in P'Pee's eyes. "I was hoping you'd ask. Last week I took the little sweet potato out for coffee. She had on the cutest blouse with flowers on it." 

"And?" 

"And the next day I stopped by her dorm to drop off a book, and wouldn't you know it? She was just arriving home, herself." 

Mew's eyes widen. Shia. "Walk of shame?" 

"Same floral blouse," whispers P'Pee. "She said she stayed at a friend's house studying for an exam. I'm guessing the exam style was… oral." 

"Phi!" 

He giggles into Mew's shoulder. "Okay na. Come on before they start making out on the couch." 

There's a commotion in the living room when Mew and Pee step out. He hears the front door shut and Chopper barking. Familiar voices fill the condo. 

"Have no fear," announces Mild in a boastful voice, "your captains are here!" He and Run are wearing matching maroon smoking jackets and naval captain hats. They strike heroic poses when they see Mew. 

"And we come bearing gifts!" Adds Run. He holds up a cardboard box full of takeout containers. "Got a little bit of everything." 

Pee shoves Mew out of the way. "Oh, you darling boy," he coos, ushering him to the kitchen. 

As everyone lounges in the living room with their food, Mew finally asks the question he's been contemplating and dreading. "Guys, why do all of you support this… whatever… with Gulf?" He looks around at all of them. "Don't you see the obvious problems with it?" 

Mild tilts his head. "You mean your tempers?" 

"Your stubbornness?" Asks Run. 

"Balancing work, school, and a relationship?" Asks Eye. 

"Are you losing your stamina?" Whispers Pee. It's not a quiet whisper. 

Fasai laughs. "You still think he's a little straight boy who's too young to get involved with a geezer like yourself?" 

Mew looks at her and sighs with relief. "I wouldn't put it so harshly, but yes. Thank you." 

It's mild who speaks first. "Nah," he says and continues eating. The room breaks into laughter. 

Pee raises his hand. "If I may, artichoke, I heard some juicy intel from someone who was there when you shot the love scene." He gives everyone a tempting look. "That boy is about as straight as cooked ramen noodles. And about as hot." 

All heads turn to Mew. Their questions come as rapid fire. 

"How many takes did you do?" 

"Was their tongue?"

"Did you get… excited?"

"Did he get excited?"

"Are there hickeys?" 

"How many aspirin did P'Tee take?" 

Mew shakes his head and holds his hands out in protest. "I'm not answering questions about the love scene. You can ask about anything else." 

They all exchange looks of confusion. 

"Phi," says Eye. "Why are you still worried? It's obvious he likes you. And I was only there for one week." 

Fasai snorts. "I've never seen you interact and I'm convinced." 

"We've seen the chemistry since day one," says Run. "It's real, I tell you. These two are always on top of each other. You want to know what affection looks like?" He points at Mew. 

Mild laughs and slaps Run on the arm. "Gulf in the morning at workshop, dragging Mew to sleep with him on the floor!" They grab at each other's arms and laugh.

"Oh! Oh! That time Mew was eating congee and Grumpy Gulf sat on his lap and just helped himself to his food!" 

Eye nods. "Ooh, I remember that! And that time P'Mew was falling asleep and Gulf just geeeeeently eased him against his shoulder?" She clasps her hands together. "Do you remember how pleased he looked with himself?" 

"Face it, spring roll," says Pee. "You two have it bad for each other." 

This is frustrating. Nobody's listening to him. "I'm being serious," he tells them. "Why don't any of you care about these issues?" 

They all look at him with blank expressions. It's Mild who answers again. "Because we see how happy you make each other." 

Mew is speechless. Because what? 

"Phi," says Eye. "Those are details for you and Gulf to discuss. We're here to gush about how dreamy he is." She shows him her phone screen. There's a picture of Gulf from the Full Moon party. 

Mild cranes his head to look. His eyes widen and he snaps his head in Mew's direction. "How did you survive?" 

"How did you get that picture?" 

Run raises his hand. The others give him applause. Mew has to admit, he's glad someone took a picture. He'd hate trying to describe how tantalizing Gulf looked last night. 

Fasai looks at the phone. "Ooh. Mew, how ever did you resist him?" 

"He didn't!" Run shows a video on his phone. It's facing away from him, but he can hear muted voices and sounds of the bar in the background. 

Everyone gasps at the same time and then looks at him. "P'Mew!" Scolds Eye. "You naughty man." She wags a finger at him. 

He winces and gets up from the floor. "Okay, let me see this video." He can see himself leaning down to whisper in Gulf's ear, followed by him tracing the edge of Gulf's shirt with his finger. Shia, he still can't believe he did that. He watches as Gulf stands from the table and walks off, leaving Mew staring after him like a puppy. 

"Aaaaaaw!" Mild tosses an arm around his shoulder. "How can we not support that?" 

Mew gives the phone back to Run. "That's my side. What about his?" 

Run holds up a finger. "I got you." He shows another video of Gulf sitting on Mew's lap at the dorm set. Mew squeezes at Gulf's tummy, as usual, and Gulf plays on his phone. He seems unaware of the camera, and he pauses in his playing to look down at Mew's hands. The smile that follows is one full of bashful happiness. 

Fasai clutches at her heart. "How can you doubt his feelings, New-New?" 

Mew shakes his head. "But-"

"Ooh, there's also this!" P'Pee shares a video from this morning of Gulf feeding Mew his congee."See how he takes care of his hubby." 

Mew sighs, "Yes, but-" 

"Here's one of them napping together!" Run shows his screen. 

Mew is silenced by the sight of himself holding a sleeping Gulf. It's not their usual spooning position (the fact that they have a position doesn't help his argument), but one of the few times they fell asleep facing each other, with Gulf's head tucked against Mew's chest. He remembers that day distinctly because of that. It's not a picture, though. It's a video, and as the camera moves closer, Gulf snuggles up even more against Mew. 

He doesn't know what to think. These were things he never knew, for obvious reasons. He never sees Gulf's reactions, but everyone else does. So what does this mean? Could he possibly return his feelings, after all? Can he stop living in denial? 

Eye tries to swipe to the next image. "What other secrets do you have on this phone?" 

Run snatches it back. "All in good time, Heartache Squad." 

"Heartache what?" Mew looks at their sheepish faces. 

"Sssqqquuuuaaaaaddd," says Mild, emphasizing the word. "It's what we called ourselves when you were still, you know…" 

"Heartbroken," says Fasai. 

Eye pats him on the back. "But now what should we call ourselves?" She looks around at everyone. "Don't we want a more positive name na kha?" 

Fasai smiles and puts an arm around her. "That's a wonderful idea." 

Mew exchanges looks with the others. Apparently, he's not the only one keeping tabs on their relationship. Pee widens his eyes as if to say, see? I told you. 

"What about the Crew?" Suggests Mild. "Run and I are already captains of this ship. We'll all be crew members!" 

"Dibs on Gunner!" Shouts Eye. 

"Fasai, are you First Mate?" Run looks at her. 

She shakes her head. "I believe that honor should go to P'Pee." She reaches out and touches his hand. "First Mate should always be around when the captains need him." 

Pee blushes and squeezes her hand back. "Then you, darling, are the Quartermaster. In charge of taking care of the ship and its supplies." 

Mew throws his hands in the air. "And now you're assigning jobs to each other…" he sighs and heads for the kitchen. He turns when he hears footsteps follow him. 

"P'Mew kha?" Eye joins him at the counter. "So, it's not really a physics problem that I wanted to ask you about."

"I figured." He serves more food onto both their plates. "You have questions about Fasai."

Eye reaches for his arm and squeezes. "P'Mew… oh, shia how do I say this na?" She tugs on his sleeve. "Phi… she sets my heart on fire."

Mew closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Fuck. 

___________________

_Mew closed the door behind him, careless as to whether it slammed or not. It wouldn't be the loudest thing coming from the room tonight. Fasai stood by the dresser, facing away from him in her backless gown. He smirked, aware that his girlfriend knew exactly what she was doing. And god, it was working._

_He placed his hands on her waist. "Congratulations on your honors award," he whispered. He traced his finger down her spine, feeling her shiver. He hummed and kissed her shoulder._

_"Do you plan to congratulate me with your words only?" She turned and tugged at the lapels of his tuxedo._

_"Would I have rented a hotel room just to talk to you?" He grinned and pressed his lips to her shoulder again, kissing his way up to her neck. The scent of her perfume drove him crazy._

_She gasped and ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm not opposed to certain kinds of talk…" she hissed as he bit into her skin._

_If there was one virtue Fasai didn't possess, it was patience. Mew had to remind her that his tux was rented as she attempted to tear it off him._

_"Deposit fee," he mumbled against her lips._

_"I'll buy the fucking tux," she growled, undoing his pants. "How many fucking layers do you have? I'm not even wearing a bra…"_

_Mew groaned and helped her remove the rest of his clothes. Fuck, he was so hard. Having to endure the entire award ceremony sitting next to Fasai in a slinky, backless silk dress was torture. He watched as she lifted the thin fabric of her gown over her head and tossed it to the side. She hadn't been wearing any underwear at all. Fuck. He drank in the sight of her. God, she was breathtaking. She grinned and beckoned him with the crook of her finger._

_There was never enough when it came to Fasai. He could never get enough of her taste, holding her legs open as he devoured her. Never enough of her skin, feeling it scald his flesh as he pulled her close. Never enough of the wet and delicious heat of being inside her, because god, she was always so wet for him. He loved feeling her tighten around him so perfectly, so tightly at times that it hurt and he would shut his eyes and fuck her through the excruciating intensity. And fuck, he loved losing control to her. Loved surrendering all his willpower to worshipping her, feeling her course through his veins as he spread her thighs even further, slamming into her until he could hear his own whimpering. And there was never enough of her moans and cries of ecstasy. The way she pulled at his hair and clawed at his back. Feeling her shiver when he thrust deeper and harder inside of her, every inch of him sliding into her glorious and divine heat that consumed him in flames._

_"You burn up my soul," she whispered._

_"You set my heart on fire," he whispered back._

______________________

Mew opens his eyes to see his N’Eye staring intently at him. How innocent she looks with her heart aglow for Fasai. Mew remembers that feeling. He remembers the yearning and the pining. He remembers the inferno of simply thinking about her. 

"Nong…" he sets down his spoon and runs a hand through his hair. "I advise you to take your time with Fasai. She's an incredible woman, and it's easy to surrender to her allure." 

Eye nods and swallows. "I'm scared, Phi."

"Good." He laughs and rubs her arm. "Keep your wits about you na. Make sure you truly know her before you make a decision. You mustn't idolize her or put her on a pedestal." 

She steps closer and leans in toward him. "Is it as dangerous as it seems to be in love with her?" 

He tries to give her a comforting smile. "Worse." 

_______________________

Mew feels the tiniest tug on his shirt and turns to see Mild. "Hm?" 

"Come, let's chat." He pulls Mew into a corner while the others are preoccupied exchanging MewGulf pictures. Because that's their ship name, apparently. 

Mild reaches for his hand. "Is it true na? That you're having nightmares about your exes?" 

Mew flinches. "Who else knows?" 

"Just the crew." He squeezes his fingers. "Pee and I will sleep with you tonight and keep an eye on you. Run, too." 

Mew nods, thankful for such wonderful friends. "Wait, we won't all fit." 

"We'll cuddle." 

He laughs, but another thought floods his brain. "The girls."

"Well, we definitely won't fit with them in the bed." Mild chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh! You mean who's going to keep an eye on them?" 

Mew laughs and nudges his friend with his shoulder. "Yes. Mild…" he ruffles his hair. "What would I do without you na?" 

He smiles brightly. "You'd have blue balls, like, all the time." 

"Who says I don't?" Mew mutters under his breath. 

"Alai na?" 

"Nothing." Unlike Gulf, Mew knows how to grumble without his words being heard. 

Mild scratches his head. "The girls could sleep with you," he suggests. 

Mew shakes his head. "Absolutely not." They may not be dating, but he's quite sure Gulf would feel weird about him sharing a bed with his ex girlfriend and the girl he openly flirted with in front of him. "Let’s all camp out in the living room." 

Mild gives him a salute and heads over to his co-captain to relay the orders. 

____________________

"Favorite facial feature," says Eye. She looks at everyone over her pad of paper. "Three, two, one, go!" 

Everyone turns their pads around to reveal their answers. 

Mild: lips

Fasai: eyes

Pee: lips

Eye: eyes

Run: ears

They all point at Run and laugh. 

"Yai Nong is sensitive about his small ears!" He protests. 

Mild buries his head in his co-captain's chest. "His ears aren't on his face!" 

"Aw." 

Heads turn to Mew. "Well?" Asks Eye. 

He shrugs at them. "It's a tie." They all groan at him. 

Fasai throws her marker at his lap. "We all know your weakness is pretty boys with big, round eyes and pouty lips." She snaps her fingers and holds her hand out for him to return the marker. "But for the sake of the game, you have to pick one." 

He throws the marker back at her. "Lips." 

Half the players laugh and give themselves points. 

Run clears his throat. "Where would you take him for a date?" 

Everyone says a collective, "Ooooh…" as they think of their answers. 

Pee: botanical garden

Eye: zoo

Mild: theme park

Fasai: movies

Run: beach

Mew looks at all the answers and points at Fasai's pad. "I'm not very creative." 

Now it's the others who throw their markers at him. 

"Boo."

"My idea was great!"

"Lame."

"Do better."

Mild slaps the coffee table with his pad. "Favorite. Body. Part."

They all smack him with their paper pads.

"Tummy!"

"Stomach!"

"It's his belly!" 

"Tum-tum!"

"His little squishy!" 

Mew buries his face in his hands, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. Is it that obvious? Why does he even have to question it? Isn't that the one place his hands always gravitate? God, just thinking about Gulf's stomach, even while laughing hysterically, is having an effect on him. He looks back at the others, who are laughing just as much. 

"Okay na, okay!" Mild smooths out his shirt. "What kind of clothing would you like to see him in most?" 

Pee snorts and starts writing immediately. The others giggle and think of their answers. Mew decides to write his down, too. 

Eye: cosplay

Fasai: tuxedo

Run: chong kraben and phraratchathan 

Mild: pajamas

They all look at Pee, who points at Mew. "Together, dumpling?" 

Mew nods, and the two of them turn their pads around. 

Mew & Pee: boyfriend shirt 

Everyone bursts into laughter. Mild's eyes grow wide. "Is that the scene you're shooting tomorrow?" 

Pee preens. "Yes, and I've done a magnificent job. Oh, you'll die when you see the little pancake." 

Fasai raises an eyebrow. "Boyfriend shirt scene?" 

Run looks around the living room. "Yes, where's your script na, Phi? Do you mind if we show-" 

"No!" Mew cries out. He realizes how suspicious he seems and shrinks down in his seat. "I mean, only the cast should see it." 

Mild snorts and reaches under the couch. "Come on, Fasai is family." He pulls out the script that Mew had hidden and slams it on the coffee table. 

"Hey!" Mew reaches for it but Pee reaches for his arms. 

"Come on na," he says, patting his hand. "Fasai won't give out spoilers." 

Mew cringes as Mild flips through the pages. He hears everyone gasp and he knows they've seen the notes written on several of the page margins. Mew curls into a ball and covers his head. Oh god, they're reading them out loud. 

_What is Phi smiling about this morning khrab?_

_Something cute._

_Tell me na? I want to smile about it, too khrab._

_Can't. It's a secret._

_Rude._

_Are you taking orders for breakfast tomorrow?_

_I think I'm spoiling you na, Phi khrab._

_Nope._

_Uh-huh. What does Phi want to eat na khrab?_

_Kana._

_Just kana? No meat?_

_Kana is plenty._

_Phi is naughty today._

_Alai na?_

_You should remove your shirt khrab._

_Alai wa???_

_Inauspicious color._

_Sleeeeepy naja._

_Nong is always sleepy._

_Is Phi sleepy too khrab?_

_Shai._

_Let's sneak off at lunch and nap 555_

_Are you being serious?_

_I never joke about napping, Phi khrab._

_Poke._

_Alai na khrab? Poke._

_Poke poke._

_Poke poke poke._

_Poke poke poke poke._

_Remind me to feel you after this scene na khrab._

_...alai?_

_To check your weight gain khrab._

_Nong could just ask how much I weigh?_

_More fun this way khrab._

_Tired, Khun Phi._

_Nap?_

_Shai. You come, too. But let’s eat first na khrab._

_Then eat fast. Last nap was too short._

_I can't eat fast. Feed me na khraaaaab? Naaa?_

_Now who's spoiled?_

_You, because I feed you all the time ._

Mew looks up after a while to see them staring at him. "Alai?" He asks. 

"Don't alai me," says Mild. "How long has this been going on?" He flips through the pages, showing the multitude of notes he and Gulf wrote to each other in his script book.

"I forget," says Mew. 

"It just keeps going!" Says Eye. "Phi! How are you still in doubt?" 

Fasai stops Mild's hand to read one of them.

_What happened to Khun Phi's back na khrab?_

_Hm?_

_I saw scratches this morning in the dressing room._

_Yai Nong… you did those._

_Alai wa???_

_Yesterday's love scene. Those are your scratch marks._

_Shia! Sorry na, Khun Phi!_

Mild and Fasai look at each other. Slowly, they both shut the script and slide it across the coffee table. 

"Story time is over," says Mild. 

__________________

They all lie down in a circle on the sea of blankets they have spread across the floor. The condo is dark except for the single miniature flashlight that Eye holds under her chin. 

"I could hear Nong Gulf moving around on the sofa, so I went to see if he was okay. He looked so cute sleeping on his little pink and blue pillow." She presses her hand against her cheek and sighs. "And then he opened his eyes, oh, he was so sleepy. He looked at me and asked if his Khun Phi was on set today." 

"Aaawww."

Eye giggles. "And yes, he said _my_ Khun Phi. " She passes the flashlight to Run. 

"Okay na. A cute memory of mine is… oh!" He pats Pee's shoulder. "Remember na, Phi, when P'Mew was doing back hug with Nong Gulf and-"

"You'll have to be more specific, fish cake. That's everyday." 

Run giggles and covers his face. "No, I know na!" He waves P'Pee away. "This one time, when P'Mew was giving back hug, Yai Nong looked tired and wanted to sit. Do you remember?" 

Pee's face lights up and he giggles into his hands. "Yes! Tell it, tell it!" 

"Yai Nong wanted to sit, so he kept inching himself and P'Mew across the room toward the chair!" Run stands up and shines the flashlight at himself as he mimes shuffling sideways across the room. "Little baby steps like this while Khun Phi was still holding him! P'Mew was so confused! Then Yai Nong just leaned back on him and they both fell into the chair!" 

Pee shrieks and slaps at Run's leg. "You're not telling it right!" P'Pee snatches the flashlight from him. "He didn't lean back, coconut. He shoved his butt against his Khun Phi so that they would fall backwards into the chair!" 

"Phi!" Eye calls out. 

"I missed that?" Asks Mild. 

"I miss everything," says Fasai. 

"He didn't shove his butt against me," says Mew. "He pushed back so that we would sit down." 

Pee squirms in his blankets. "If you had paused at the right moment, it would have looked more obscene than a nightclub."

"That's how you sit down!" Says Mew. "That's what happens!" 

Run takes the flashlight back. "Okay na! I think we can all agree that Yai Nong shoved his ass at Khun Phi. Ah!" He dodges a swipe from Mew. "Co-Captain, it's your turn na." 

"Oh, I have a good one…" Mild holds the flashlight under his chin and wiggles his eyebrows. "Nong Gulf was feeding Mew… alai? What was it, Mew?" 

"I'm not helping."

Mild rolls his eyes. "Dick."

"He was feeding him di-?"

"No!" Mild smacks Run. "He wasn't feeding him that! Dirty mind!" 

Pee sighs. "Grapes. For fuck's sake, it was grapes." 

Mild chuckles. "Oh yeah! So, Yai Nong is feeding hims grapes, and Mew-"

"Wait," says Fasai. "This is normal, then? He just always feeds New?" 

Everyone nods. "Nong Gulf said P'Mew was too skinny, and it was his job to put meat back on his bones," Eye explains. 

She sighs. "Mew, when did you become so stupid? This boy is crazy about you."

P'Pee reaches across and holds her hand. "Thank you, my darling. Mew, listen to the woman." 

Mild clears his throat. "As I was saying… Mew decided to bite into the grape this time. And of course he made a mess. And his dumb ass tried to catch all the juices and stuff…" he looks around at everyone. "And his mouth was aaaaall over Yai Nong's fingers. Practically trying to eat his hand." 

"Ooooiiiiyyyy…."

"And then!" Mild slaps his pillow. "There was still some left on his fingers, so Yai Nong licked the rest of it himself!" 

Eye gasps. "What even is that? An indirect… French kiss?" They all laugh. 

"I had nothing to do with it!" Protests Mew. 

"Mew was shook," defends Mild. "He gave Yai Nong a look and Nong went, _what? I've had your tongue in my mouth plenty of times, but you're worried about grape juice?_ I almost died!" 

Mew can see everyone staring at him with their mouths open. God, why did he agree to this? He then remembers that he didn't. He had no choice in any of this tonight. 

"Face it, Phi," says Eye. "I think you're the only one who has doubts about this." 

Mew stares at the ceiling. He's not stupid. He's in denial, can't they tell? He knows exactly how this looks. If he were an outsider, he'd guess they had feelings for each other. But on the rare chance that he's wrong, and that Gulf doesn't return his feelings, Mew doesn't think he could handle such a dose of reality. He's not sure what sign or proof would convince him entirely, other than Gulf outright telling him. 

"Hoy." Run holds out his phone. "It's late na. Wouldn't want you to be late for the boyfriend shirt scene."

Fuck. Mew tries to think about anything but Gulf in an oversized white shirt. He has to get to bed somehow. He looks at Pee and Mild on either side of him. They both nod, acknowledging their duty tonight to be on nightmare watch. 

________________

_Mew tried to ignore the side eyed stares he received as he walked through the hall. It seemed everyone knew him as the guy whose girlfriend caused a scene to get his room switched._

_It wasn't even what he wanted. He liked his old dorm, and he liked his roommate. All he wanted was the leak in the ceiling fixed. Kind of. It wasn't even leaking over anything important. It was in the middle of the room, and he would have been perfectly content to keep changing the bucket he had placed underneath it. But Fasai had taken one look at it and made that noise. That hmph noise that meant she wasn't pleased._

_"It's okay na," Mew said. "I'll report it to the office tomorrow."_

_"Let's do it now." She gathered her bag and keys._

_"No, let's stay here," he suggested, tugging on her sleeve and pulling her close. "I missed you." He pouted at her until she agreed to stay._

_But after reporting it and being told the maintenance staff was backed up, Fasai was relentless. "This is unacceptable!" She cried out. "Your ceiling has been leaking for a month!"_

_Mew sighed and laid back on the bed. "Snuggle time," he had announced, patting the space next to him._

_"You always think it's snuggle time." She crawled onto the bed and curled into his arms._

_He kissed her forehead and inhaled the Arabian Jasmine aroma of her perfume. "That's because it IS always snuggle time."_

_The next time, Mew didn't have a choice. The dormitory manager knocked on his door, followed by Fasai._

_"There it is," she said, pointing at the leak in the ceiling._

_The manager scoffed. "That's it?" He looked at Mew. "Is this why I got called to the housing office and got reprimanded for not answering this sooner?"_

_Fasai crossed her arms and made that noise again. "It's been over a month since we reported it."_

_He looked at his clipboard. "And in the last month, we've had seven people lock themselves out, one guy punched a hole in the wall, someone smashed their window, three clogged toilets, two broken showers, and someone kicked in their door when they got drunk."_

_Mew gulped and smiled sheepishly at the manager. "Sorry na khrab, Khun Tug." He made Wai._

_The apology hadn't helped, not after Fasai had continued to mouth off. I'm the end, the manager said fuck all and transfered Mew to another room. He had a week to pack his things._

_Mew brought the last of his boxes to his new room. His new roommate lounged on his bed, reading a book, ignoring him. Mew wondered what kind of guy he was switching places with. What kind of relationship had he broken up between him and this new roommate?_

_Already he was missing living with Pog. Mew thought he had hit the lottery with him as his roommate. He was in the faculty of music, and the two of them would chat for hours about bands or songs. Pog was even helping him with guitar. He was a cool guy, and it was always amusing watching him get flustered around Fasai. He couldn't blame him, though. Mew knew his girlfriend was fucking hot._

_And fucking hotheaded. A week later, and he was still pissed at her. She hadn't even apologized for the inconvenience she'd caused him._

_They were at it again. Fighting about the incident, getting nowhere. It was the third time that week. He crossed his arms and looked back into her fiery eyes._

_"I didn't even want to report the leak, and now look where I am." He gestured around his new room, where everything had been hastily put away._

_"You mean a dorm without water dripping from the ceiling?"_

_"It was fine!"_

_She shook her head and held a hand up to silence him. "It was NOT fine. You had a bucket in the middle of the room."_

_"At least it was MY room."_

_"Oh, would you fucking get over that?" She sighed and rubbed her temples. "You're just down the hall, for fuck's sake. You can see Pog whenever you want."_

_Mew couldn't help pouting. "It's not the same." And truly it wasn't. Fasai didn't understand. She hated her roommate. She didn't know what it was like living with a friend._

_"Quit sulking already." She groaned and grabbed her keys. "I was just trying to help you."_

_"I wish you wouldn't sometimes."_

_"Quit being so proud na!"_

_"Quit underestimating me!"_

_She glared at him. "Dai." Fine._

________________________

Mew is awakened by someone shaking his arm. His eyes open in the dim dawn light to see Fasai leaning over him. 

"Come on," she whispers. 

It's chilly this early in the morning, even for Bangkok. Then again, Mew's just woken up and his body temperature is still low. He and Fasai walk through the neighborhood with Chopper. 

"The infamous ceiling leak," she tells him. "I remember the argument well." 

"One of millions," Mew reminds her. 

"Billions," she corrects. "We fought so much, New-New." 

He nods and lets Chopper sniff around a lamppost. "I'm surprised we made it a year." 

She shrugs. "Love. So, you'll dream about our break-up, and then… how many before _him_?"

"Two more. But I've already dreamt about _him_." He scratches his head. "He's been interwoven, actually. Never could wait his fucking turn." 

She reaches for his hand and squeezes. "Why do you think you've been having these dreams na?" 

They continue walking, Chopper leading the way in his striped tee-shirt. "At first I thought they were warnings. That they were telling me to stay away from Gulf."

"And now?"

"Now I'm not sure." He stops again to let Chopper go potty. "Maybe I'm meant to learn from each relationship." 

Fasai hands him a baggie and takes the leash from him as he picks up after Chopper. "You better learn it quickly. You only have two exes left before the exam." She winks at him. 

Mew nods. If he can survive the last two exes, will it be the end of his dreams? Will he ever find peace and be able to sleep soundly with Gulf? Will he ever get the chance again? 

Fasai looks at her watch. "By the way, don't you have a boyfriend shirt to drool over?" 

"Shia!" He scoops Chopper up and runs back to the condo. "You'll take care of the others?" 

P'Pee is already gone by the time Mew returns with Chopper. He disposes of the poop bag and rushes to take a shower. Mild shouts after him that they'll clean up. 

The condo is back to normal by the time Mew steps out of his bedroom, showered and dressed for work. The blankets are all arranged to be washed, dishes are done, bags packed. 

Eye holds out Mew's bag and keys for him. "We'll take care of the rest. Drive safely na!" 

Run shoves a banana in his hand on the way out. "Can't face the boyfriend shirt on an empty stomach. Susu na!" 

Mew eats the banana on the way to the set. He normally arrives early, so at this rate he should get there on time. He just hopes there isn't… shia. He slows to a full stop, seeing the rows and rows of cars ahead of him. Great. There's been a wreck on the motorway. He sends a silent prayer that the people involved are safe. Then he sends a text to P'Tee. He sees several missed calls from P'Pee and a text.

** P'Pee **

Avoid motorway. Big wreck. Just passed it myself.

The text was from forty five minutes ago. Shia. He's going to be late. He's going to be late for the damn boyfriend shirt scene, and they won't have a chance to rehearse before they film. He'll have to go in cold to see Gulf in a fucking boyfriend shirt. 

And he didn't jerk off beforehand. 

He's fucked. 


	31. Squid Pro Co

As soon as Mew arrives, he's whisked off to hair and makeup. They tell him that Gulf is already on the set. Just as he predicted, he'll have to go into the scene cold, no rehearsal. 

P'Pee brings him his costume. "What took you so long?" 

Mew shakes his head. "Why didn't you get me up when you left?" 

"You were walking the dog!" Pee takes his clothes and exchanges them for Tharn's. "Did I know you were going to take a twenty minute promenade?" He sighs. 

"How bad is it?" 

Pee smirks. "My best work yet. Did you… you know? Before coming here?" 

"No." Mew shuts his eyes and puts on the striped pants of his costume. "Aow. This fabric's really thin." This does not bode well for him.

Pee giggles. "Good luck, pomelo." 

There's a kind of buzz in the air when he arrives on set. An electricity of sorts that hums in his ears and vibrates in his chest. Expectancy. Anticipation. They're all waiting for the moment when he sees Gulf. No pressure. It can't be that bad, right? It's a shirt. Just a shirt. 

Oh, fuck, it's _just_ a shirt. Nothing else.

A staff member with a headset gives him the one minute warning. He takes a deep breath and channels Tharn. He's been away from Type for a month. Four weeks without his grouchy mood and penchant for kicking. Four weeks without his cute attempts at insulting him, which always end up resembling an angry kitten trying and failing to be intimidating. Four weeks without holding him, kissing him, making love to him. 

Snap out of it. Mew shakes his head. Too much Tharn. He forgot how absolutely crazy his character is for Type. How smitten and whipped and madly in love he is with Type. God, he's fucked either way, isn't he? 

The staff member gives him his cue to enter the apartment and Tharn opens the door to find his boyfriend coming around the corner. It's like dawn, with the sun peeking above the horizon. His serious and aloof expression is so cute he can't help but smile. He's missed his ferocious little kitten. 

Type walks toward the couch and that's when Tharn's heart stops. 

Legs. 

Type's legs.

Long, deliciously tan legs. 

Type in an oversized shirt.

Sleeves pulled over his hands. 

God, it's so cute. 

And fuck, it's so hot. 

Legs. 

Gulf's legs.

Legs he wants to spread open and kiss the soft flesh of his inner thighs. 

Legs he wants to lick and bite and grab so hard he'll leave marks. 

Legs he wants to be between. 

Fuck.

"Mew, your blocking," says P'Tee. 

Alai? Is someone talking to him? Mew shakes his head and blinks. "Sorry na khrab." He looks around as if he's just seeing the crew for the first time. "Still out of it from the traffic, I guess." He goes back to his mark for take two. He has to calm down.

"Action."

Legs. 

Shapely and so, so long. 

"Cut na khrab."

Fuck.

"Sorry na khrab." He sneaks a glance at Gulf. There's a look of concern on his cherubic face, a kind of pouty worry. The little shit has absolutely no idea what he's doing to him, does he?

"Action!" 

Tharn walks in. 

Legs. 

Boyfriend shirt. 

Sleeves over hands. 

Damnit. 

"Cuuuuut na khrab." 

Mew winces and grabs at his hair. He hears the gasp of a hair stylist in the background and he quickly fixes his fringe. He wishes they would comb his hair to the side again. He always feels more confident with that kind of dashing, princely hair. Hard to seduce his kitten with his boyish fringe. On second thought, perhaps it's better this way. 

P'Tee leans over to his assistant director. "Okay, you were right na khrab." He grabs his walkie and speaks into it. "P'Pee, can we get a pair of boxer shorts in here? Yes, I know you warned me. No, bring the longer boxers. Yes, it's that bad." 

Mew looks at their director and makes Wai, mouthing the words _sorry na khrab._ P'Tee shrugs and reaches for his bottle of aspirin. It's about halfway empty. 

P'Pee places a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe, pork bun. It'll only get worse. Susu na!" He blows him a kiss and brings the pair of boxers to Gulf. He's back around the corner, so Mew can't see a thing.

Mew shakes his hands out and takes several deep breaths. He has to get a hold of himself. They haven't even started dialogue. He sees Pee waving goodbye to Gulf around the corner and prancing off behind the camera. Great, he's going to watch. 

The next time Tharn sees Type, he's wearing long boxers that come down under the shirt. Safe. Normal. He steadies his breathing. Tharn finally meets Type by the couch. 

"You're late," says Type. Truer words were never spoken. 

The dialogue is a blur. Tharn is on autopilot. Meanwhile, Mew is a mess. Gulf's doing something different than usual. His movements are like Type, but… slower? More fluid. 

Sensual. 

God, Mew is going to lose it. Gulf didn't do this in rehearsal. He didn't move like this. He didn't make these expressions that send Mew's stomach up to his chest and flip it upside down. He never thought Gulf could pull off this kind of sexy. Sexy in his own way, perhaps. In the bashful, innocent way with his Bambi eyes and pouty lips. Like the shirtless scene they shot in bed, with Gulf looking so soft and romantic. Or sexy in the smoldering, angry way that Type can get. The intense heat and deadly looks from his versatile nong. But this is something else. This is… seductive. This Gulf is different. He's confident and alluring. He's Type with all his arrogance and teasing. And god, it's sexy. 

He looks into Type's languid bedroom eyes and feels himself unraveling. What did Kaprao call it? Eye fucking. Mew feels a rush in his gut. That is definitely what they're doing.

Tharn touches the shirt. "What are you wearing?" 

Type leans forward and gives a singular bat of his eyelashes that sends a wave of want through Mew's body. "Well… your welcome home gift."

Mew wants nothing more than to open that gift and play with it all day long. He yanks Type toward him and they kiss. Softly at first, as if to say hello, I missed you. But god, how they missed each other. The kiss continues, and Mew has to fight to restrain himself. He lets Type break away, and that's when Mew forgets how to breathe. Gulf's eyes are closed as if in pleasure, and he opens them so slowly and temptingly that Mew wonders if time itself has slowed down for this moment. He's never been more turned on by such a simple action as _blinking,_ and yet it's so much more because it's Gulf blinking. Gulf looking at him from under his eyelashes in a way that goes straight to his groin and makes him want to do sinful and filthy things to his co-star. 

Now to fall onto the bed and make out. 

They tumble onto the mattress together. Mew is already partially stiff against Gulf's thigh. They haven't even started kissing. He gets the feeling he's going to lose himself in this scene. He can feel the warmth pumping through his veins, stronger and stronger. 

Tharn strokes Type's hair and they smile at each other. Mew could look at that smile forever. Bambi eyes gone small and sparkly as he leans down for a kiss. As much as he wants to tear into him and go full throttle, he doesn't. Because that's not what this is about. Above all else, Tharn is a romantic. He wants to woo his lover every day of his life. Mew can certainly appreciate that. It's his way, too. His desires, primal as they are, would never be satisfied by physical gratification alone. His body is aching for relief, but his heart is basking in the gentleness of this moment. The kiss he gives him is tender. A love kiss. And when the other kisses come, Tharn travels wherever he can to worship his partner, to pay homage to every inch of exposed skin. Cheeks, neck, anywhere he can take in that crisp smell of shampoo and the underlying scent of nature that is uniquely Gulf. He feels Type arch his back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. He's starting to get hard, too. It only excites Mew even more, feeling his co-star get gradually harder. He sinks his teeth into that soft and delicious flesh of Gulf's neck before stopping himself. No biting. 

He returns to Type's lips. God, how he loves his lips. Pouty and pillowy. He loves how Gulf tastes, loves the mild, almost sweet flavor of him, despite the fact that he never eats sweets. It tells him this is just how Gulf tastes, and the thought alone sends Mew into ecstasy. His kisses grow hungry, greedy for more of that sweetness. 

"Cut khrab," says P'Tee. "Let's tone it down na? Remember the rating. Lighting, can we get some adjustment near the bed? We've got a dark spot." 

Mew looks down at Gulf, slightly out of breath. "Sorry na khrab," he whispers. He shifts his weight to wipe the sweat from his brow. At least this set has quiet aircons. 

Gulf avoids eye contact. "Me, too. I got a little too into character." Mew can still feel him raging hard against his hip.

He laughs and fans his shirt out. "I got a lot into character." He tugs at Type’s boyfriend shirt. "P'Pee knows how to dress a man for seduction." Huh. Did he just let something slip?

Mew has to wonder how much of this afternoon was acting. He looks down at Gulf. Their eyes meet and the bloom in his chest opens its petals to soak in the sunlight. 

"Okay khrab. Start from the top, fall onto the bed." Mew and Gulf reset so they can land on their mark. They go at it again.

"Cuuuuut khrab. Gulf, no more moaning." 

Gulf's eyes go wide. He looks up at him. "Did I moan?" Mew gives him a lopsided grin and nods. He can still hear it in his head, the sound of his junior in such a state of pleasure. Gulf looks so shocked and adorable that he wants to kiss him all over again.

P'Tee's sigh is fairly audible. "Okay khrab. I know you're channeling some intense emotions for your characters and you need an outlet. Let's get a clean, rating friendly take and then you can kiss as long as you need to get it out of your system. Khrab?" 

Shia, has it come to that? He and Gulf exchange sheepish glances. No use denying it. They nod at each other with renewed resolve.

No tongue. No moaning. No biting. Mew's not really sure how they did it, but they behaved themselves. 

"Cut khrab. Alright, you can go ahead and… that." 

It seems Gulf doesn't need to be told twice. His arms wrap around Mew's neck, pulling him closer, kissing him harder. It takes him by surprise. Where is this coming from? All he can do is respond, and how fervently he does. He hums against Gulf's lips and he feels something twitch against his hip. God, this isn't going to end well. He has to stop before it gets out of hand, because it's all too much. Their mouths are hungry for each other, and it finally sinks in that they're no longer Tharn and Type, and that it's been Gulf kissing him this whole time. The realization sends a pang to his chest and the pit of his stomach. A word comes back to him that makes his heart race. _Yours._

Gulf's lips and Gulf's touch and Gulf so painfully hard against him. Mew can't get enough of that tantalizing sweetness, and he reaches out with his tongue, begging for entrance. And he feels, god, he feels Gulf responding, his tongue pushing back to caress his own. A fleeting taste of what he wishes were his. Mew's grip on him tightens, his fingers digging into his hips and hearing Gulf gasp against his mouth. He's going to lose his mind.

Mew pulls back. He hates himself for it, and every muscle in his body aches as he does so. But he can't let this happen. Not like this. Not in front of the crew and staff, not again anyway. Not when they haven't talked about anything, if there's anything for them to say. But if it ever does happen between them, it will be just the two of them. Not like this. 

He looks at Gulf, at his round and pleading eyes. "We should probably stop na," he tells him. His voice is a whisper, an apology. He wants to do things properly with Gulf. 

His co-star nods, and Mew wonders if the disappointment on his face is because they stopped or because they started. He responds with a smile that he hopes conveys the chaotic mixture of emotions he's feeling. Sadness, confusion, frustration, but mostly longing. 

Mew gets off him and stands from the bed. He walks away and doesn't look back. 

____________________

Pee follows him back to the dressing room. "And what the hell was that, kumquat?" 

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't-"

"I don't know," Mew repeats. "I lost control. I shouldn't have let it happen." 

P'Pee fans himself. "Well, whatever it was, you gave me hot flashes." 

Mew sighs and changes into his next costume. Jeans and a tee shirt, thank goodness. He sees Gulf enter the dresser room, and he seems to be avoiding eye contact. Mew can't say he blames him. How do you look someone in the eye after something like that? 

He watches Gulf change clothes underneath his big shirt, like some kind of self conscious school boy. He hopes he didn't make him feel ashamed. He needs to see how he's doing.

Mew throws an arm around his shoulders and gives him his best puppy face that he may or may not have borrowed from Tharn. "Are we okay na? Did I upset you?" 

Gulf lets out a breath and smiles at him. Mew recognizes that smile. He remembers it from the day they first met, how sweet and genuine it looked. "We're okay, Phi khrab. I just get lost sometimes. Thanks na for pulling me out of it." 

Mew's not really sure how he should feel. Relieved? Disappointed? Possibly both? He can't let this keep going. He does his best to neutralize his expression. Softens the eyes, makes them playful. "So, is this supposed to be Tharn's shirt or a camping tent?" 

Gulf holds it out in front of him. "I thought a bed sheet." 

Mew breathes a sigh of relief that he turns into a laugh. He's grateful Gulf is able to joke, too. He squeezes his shoulder. "If you don't keep it, I want to."

Gulf's eyebrow twitches upwards. "And what would Phi do with it?" 

"I need a new tablecloth." He congratulates himself for avoiding the potentially suggestive implication. The bloom in his chest opens itself once again to Gulf's rays. Things are starting to feel normal again. 

His junior rolls his eyes. "I'd better change or they'll charge me rent in this thing." 

If there's something Mew has learned from being bisexual, it's that men and women tend to remove their shirts differently. Men usually tug on the back and pull it over their heads. Women usually cross their arms and pull up on the sides. Mew's seen Gulf undress before. They've changed in the same room for months now. Gulf is like most men, he pulls his shirt over his head. 

Except this time. This time in the boyfriend shirt, Gulf doesn't undress like he normally does. He doesn't move as nonchalantly as usual, doesn't have that air of unconcern. It's different and new. It's sensual. He removes the shirt the way most women do, arms crossed, lifting upwards, gradually exposing his tantalizing tummy, chest, and neck. Up, over his head, smiling innocently as he emerges from it. 

Gulf makes a satisfied noise as he hangs it back up on the rack. "Goodbye, sex shirt, thanks na khrab for your service." He salutes it and turns back to face him.

Mew is transfixed, seeing Gulf in nothing but a pair of white, skin-tight boxer briefs. He barely takes in the sight, because they leave so little to the imagination. But when his eyes travel upwards, they stop at the bit of chubby flesh folding over the waistband. Here, in plain view, is Gulf's delectable little tummy, pudging ever so adorably for Mew's eyes to devour. He really shouldn’t be seeing this. He really shouldn’t be looking. So much for normal. 

It takes Gulf a second to figure out what's wrong. He looks down, eye growing large, mouth clamping down tight. 

"Yai Nong!" P'Pee rushes toward him. "Here you go, baby." He shoves a pair of pants at him. 

"Khrab." Gulf nods his head slightly. He looks so awkward putting on the jeans in front of them. 

P'Pee tries to be subtle when he shoves Mew with his elbow, but subtlety isn't P'Pee's thing. Mew shakes his head. How is he supposed to recover from this? 

He turns to his senior and smiles. "P'Pee," he teases, "how come I don't get to wear anything sexy?"

Pee scoffs and slaps his arm. "Because, lover, nobody wants to see you in clothes." He smirks. "But we did have you in some skimpy house clothes. If I recall, a lot of your boxers were quite short and tight." 

Shia, is that why his costumes felt a size too small? "Ahhh… I was wondering why my house clothes were so snug." He gives Gulf an incredulous look. "I thought I was getting fat!" 

P'Pee giggles. "If you're ever worried, you can come exercise at my house." 

Mew wonders if Pee's flirting is starting to get to Gulf, or if the humor is improving the situation.

An idea comes to him, and he reaches for Type's shirt. "Give me something sexy to wear, and I might have a reason to exercise." He winks at Gulf and holds the shirt out for him to stick his head through. 

Gulf gives him a look. "Is Khun Phi going to dress me now?" 

Mew gives him the threatening look. The one that goes with the Yai Nong… voice. A throwback to their days of simpler teasing. "Someone has to." 

Gulf rolls his eyes and ducks his head into the neck hole. Mew guides his arms into the sleeves and pulls the shirt down around him. He smiles and brushes off his shoulders. "There na khrab, Khun Gulf khrab. It is a pleasure to wait upon you, Khun Gulf khrab. May fortune smile on you, Khun Gulf khrab." He backs away, making Wai every other step. 

Gulf laughs so hard he drowns out the rest of Mew's venerations. He gives him his snootiest look and shoos him away. "Be gone na, servant. I have no more need for you." 

They laugh together like school boys, reaching out to steady themselves in each other's shoulders. They laugh until their bellies ache and their eyes water. The bloom in his chest soaks in that glorious sunlight from Gulf's smile and laugh. The warmth of it seeps into his bones, the warmth that comes from being around his Yai Nong. 

__________________________

Mild stretches out on the couch, one hand behind his head, the other massaging his stomach. "Aaaah… you make the best pork krapao. Been practicing for your Yai Nong?" 

Mew scoffs and finishes drying the last dish. "Tell me again why you're here?" 

"To sleep with you, of course." 

Mew rolls his eyes. "I know that much." He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. "Why are you sleeping over?"

Mild looks at him as if the answer were obvious. "To monitor your dreaming, dumbass." He makes a high pitched sigh and throws his arms up. " _Thank you, N’Mild. You're such a good person, N’Mild. You're my best friend in the world, N’Mild…_ " He gives Mew a pointed look.

He takes the hint. "Thank you na khraaaaab, N’Mild." He makes a deep Wai. "You're my very best friend in the whole wide world na khraaaaab, N’Mild." 

Mild does not look amused. "Aren't you supposed to be an actor?" 

After showers, Mild wriggles underneath Mew's bedsheets. "What is this na, 1 million thread count?" He hums and rubs the fabric. "I always forget you're a rich kid, Khun Chai." _Mr. Fancy Pants._

Mew ignores him and props up his pillow so he can read in bed. "How long do you plan on being my roommate na?"

"Depends," says Mild, snuggling under the blanket. "What else can you cook?"

"Get out." He smacks his leg with the book. 

Mild laughs and swats back at him. "Kidding! Kind of." He sticks his tongue out. "Until I gather sufficient data, Dr. Jongcheveevat." 

"Not a doctor yet," says Mew, not bothering to look up from his book. 

"Yet, he says." 

_"Do you have to keep coming here?" Fasai asked._

_Mew looked around at the girls staring at them. At him, rather. He turned to his girlfriend and smiled. "Aw, is my baby getting jealous?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "So full of yourself." She tugged him down the steps of her faculty building and off to the side. "Do you know what they say about me?"_

_Mew's face turned serious. "Alai na?" What?_

_"That I'm teacher's pet because my handsome boyfriend flirts with my professors."_

_Oh, that? He had to laugh. "Only the one with the toupee," he teased._

_She smacked his chest. "I'm serious, New. They're saying the only reason I got the top internship is because you charmed the admissions board when you stopped by that day."_

_"What day?"_

_She groaned and glared at him. "The day you showed up with 'leftover' sweets from your music club's social event."_

_Mew glared back at her. "They really were leftovers, you heard P'Tag teasing me about taking so many."_

_"Why did you take so many, then? And why did you conveniently show up right after my interview and offer some to the board?" She furrowed her brows. "Acting all sleazy like that."_

_"Sleazy?" What the fuck was that supposed to mean?_

_"Yes!" She gestured vaguely. "Trying to be charming, making lame jokes. It was embarrassing."_

_Mew had heard this before, and not just from Fasai. Exes, friends, and family had all pointed out how he could be a show-off and a schmoozer at times. Worst of all was that he knew it was true. He loved the attention and the ability to captivate people. But it didn't make it any less slighting to have it pointed out to him. In fact, it made him resentful whenever someone brought it up. So what if he liked to flaunt and showboat? Didn't he use these gifts for good reasons? Fasai had intimidation and manipulation as a means of getting what she wanted. What was so wrong about him using charm and flattery?_

_He gave her a smug look. "Well, you got the internship, didn't you?" His voice was more self-righteous than he intended._

_And there, on her face, was a look Mew almost never saw. He'd seen anger and lust and mischief, but this… this was hurt._

_"You didn't think I could get it on my own, did you?" Her voice was soft, with the tiniest edge that only Fasai could deliver._

_Shia. He hadn't thought of that. "Sai…"_

_She shook her head and waved him off. "I don't want you coming to my faculty building anymore. I can't have my professors thinking I can't earn things on my own merit. I'll never be respected as a lawyer if all anyone can think of is how my handsome boyfriend paved the way for me."_

"Meung, meung…" _you, you._ Mild shakes his shoulder. "Snap out of it na." He snaps his fingers in Mew's ear.

"Alai wa?"

"You were fighting with Fasai," he says. "Something about leftover sweets."

"Shia… I hated that day."

Mild shakes his head. "I always knew you were one talkative son of a bitch, but I didn't think you blabbered like this in your sleep." 

Mew rubs the sleep out of his eyes. It's still dark outside. He reaches for his phone and checks the time. 4 am. 

"How clearly do I talk in my sleep?"

"Hm?" Mild looks up from his own phone. "Uh, mostly you mumble. But you get more coherent the angrier you get." 

That doesn't sound good. He settles back into bed. "How long did it go on?"

"A few minutes? I'm taking notes on my phone. You can read the full report over breakfast." He smiles and winks at him. "What are you cooking?" 

Mew groans and places his entire hand over Mild's face. "No more talking na. There's been enough of that in this bed."

"I love pillow talk," Mild manages to say with his mouth covered. 

"Don't make me gag you."

"How did you know I was into that?" 

Mew laughs in spite of himself. 

Mild pats him on the head. “Go back to sleep na.” He settles back under the covers. “I’ll slap your face if you start dreaming again.” 

“Aye, Captain.”

______________________________________

P'Pee's eyes roll back in his head. "My diet," he moans. He takes another bite of his sanay chan.

Mew looks down at the sweet. A smile spreads across his face as the memory of a certain moon shell comes to his mind. Gulf said he brought dessert for the entire cast, but the secret, hopeful part of him wants to think they were meant for him. He can pretend that, can’t he? He takes a bite and all but moans. He can’t even say it’s because of his bias that he finds the dessert so delicious. It’s objectively good. 

Mew pops the rest of it in his mouth and rushes toward Gulf, enveloping him in a giant bear hug. He leans in and presses their cheeks together as he chews, causing Gulf's face to squish up and down in the same rhythm. His junior is so cute. He feels Gulf press back against his cheek, pretending to chew. Pretty soon they're laughing like two idiots as they rock side to side, each trying to chew more obnoxiously against the other's face.

Mew pulls away, laughing behind his hand as he finishes chewing. "Did you really make these?" 

Gulf's smile is a shy one, the one he so often uses in interviews. "I helped. Nong Kaprao did the actual cooking. How is it?"

P'Mew contemplates for a second. That may be the reason it’s so good. He can’t imagine someone who dislikes sweets to be that skilled or experienced in making them. "It tastes better than the shell you gave me." 

He gives him a cheeky smile that Gulf replies to with a smile so romantic that Mew’s heart wants to melt. Some days he can’t believe his junior actually looks at him like that. 

Mew tugs on his wrist and pulls him close. "What other secret talents do you have?" 

Gulf looks shy, squirming in his embrace. "It's a secret, obviously." 

Too cute. He’s far too cute. He shakes his tummy. "What does Khun Phi have to do to learn the secret?" He leans close to see Gulf's face. "Hhm? Can I learn the secret?" He would learn all of Gulf’s secrets if he let him. 

His Yai Nong laughs, looking away. Mew can tell that he’s thinking of something mischievous, perhaps some kind of misdirection. "Khun Phi has to…"

Mew squeezes the sides of his belly. "Naaa naaa." 

"Khun Phi must show me his secret talents, too." 

Of course. His nong always wants them to be on equal footing. How very Gulf. Mew pulls back a little to get a better look at him. He purses his lips together as he considers it. "Like quid pro quo?" 

"Huh?" 

He smiles at the adorable confusion on his nong’s face. "It's Latin," he explains. "It means _this for that_. I share something, then you share something." Mew sees something light up in Gulf’s eyes. A kind of excitement that he isn’t used to seeing. Is it possible that Gulf enjoys this sort of exchange? I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours? It’s a dangerous thought in Mew’s head, one that isn’t helped by the cheeky grin on Gulf’s face. 

"Okay khrab." Gulf untangles himself and holds out his hand for a handshake. "Squid pro co." 

Wait, what? Did he just say…? Mew’s entire body shakes with laughter. Squid what? Why is his nong so cute? He pulls him into his arms, resting his forehead on Gulf’s shoulder. He squeezes his junior's sides, then rubs them up and down as a kind of apology for laughing at him. He couldn’t help himself. Squid pro co… sounds like some kind of seafood company. 

Gulf waits until the laughter slows down. Uh-oh. There’s a look on his face that Mew definitely recognizes. He knows his little shit too well. "What?" He leans in toward Mew's ear. "It's not squid pro co?"

The shaking builds up again as Mew's laughter resurges. He mumbles into Gulf's shoulder about his stomach hurting. He grabs the back of Gulf's shirt, looking for something-anything to get his giddiness to subside. It takes another minute, but he finally calms down. When he stands upright again, he clasps his hand over Gulf's mouth. 

"Not again," he orders. "You're making me sore." 

Gulf's response is muffled. Mew’s dirty imagination thinks he hears something like, _shouldn't it be the other way around_? He's a little relieved he didn’t hear him. "Yai Nong…" P'Mew uses the threatening voice and points at him with his other hand. "If I release you, will you be a good boy?" God, why is he doing this? He knows he shouldn’t but he just can't help but play, too. 

His nong nods slowly. And because he's a little shit, he does the eye thing from the boyfriend shirt scene. A slow, singular bat of the eyelashes. 

Mew is fucked. He shouldn’t have tried to play, not when Gulf holds so many cards. He feels the corner of his mouth twitch. "I'll take that as a yes." He removes his hand. 

Gulf smiles innocently and licks his lips. "Hm. Tastes like sanay chan… and a hint of seashell." 

Mew shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Yai Nong, Yai Nong, Yai Nong…" he pulls on his arm and turns him around for a back hug. He can’t bear to look at him anymore. Not with the little brat licking his lips like that. Not after claiming to have tasted his hand. This was not what he had in mind when he came to work this morning. "What will I do with my Yai Nong?"

Gulf’s reply stops his heart. "Whatever you want,” he says. 

Fucked. Definitely fucked. Here lies Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat, devoted father of Chopper, who was killed by a sudden onset of _alai the fuck wa?_ He laughs because that’s what he always does when he’s nervous. 

"Do you mean it?" He ventures to ask. He hugs Gulf closer. 

Gulf does nothing in response. Shia. He’s still, staring out into space as he often does. Mew never knows what goes on in his junior’s head when he does this. After a moment, he shakes his head and looks around. 

"Yai Nong?" Mew pats his tummy. "Are you okay na?" 

"Yes." He takes a deep breath. "And yes I mean it." 

"Hmm…" Mew’s arms encircle his waist. "Whatever I want?" He’s surprised by how low and rough his voice sounds. He can feel Gulf pressing back against him, as if trying to curl into him. The bloom in his chest responds by opening its petals, reaching up and out for that glow from Gulf. He tries to enclose him even further. Whatever his Yai Nong wants. 

"Yes," Gulf says for the third time. "Anything." 

_Anything_. Is Gulf trying to kill him? 

"Good…" Mew loosens his arms and pinches at his waist. He needs to be reminded of something cute to distract the growing want in his chest. And in his pants. "Then show me your secret talent." 

Gulf elbows him in the ribs. Not hard. Just to get him off him. He wanted a distraction, didn’t he? His junior turns around to glare at him. 

"What happened to-"

"Don't say it!" Mew is already smiling, already on the verge of laughter. 

Gulf crosses his arms. "But you said we would do-"

Mew cuts him off before he can continue. "You said you'd be a good boy." 

"To-"

"Yai Nong…" Please, somebody stop him. He’s being so cute and bratty and if he says that phrase one more time, Mew is going to lose his shit. 

Gulf smirks at him. "Squid pro co." 

That’s it. Mew hunches over with laughter. He can’t see anymore, his eyes are shut so tight. He can hear Gulf laughing, too. Why is it so funny? It’s just squid pro… he laughs even harder. His nong is going to be the death of him. He can’t help but let go and simply enjoy being with Gulf. The moment is pure and devoid of their stifling sexual tension. Just the fun, the cuteness, and the warmth. 

The static of a walkie talkie echoes in the hall. "Okay khrab, set's ready." 

Mew wipes at the tears in his eyes. "Okay, na. Okay. We'll do squid pro co." He puts his arm around Gulf as they walk to the set. "But you're going first."


	32. Heart to Heart

Mew glares at his phone. The dial tone mocks him as he thinks about his last words to Gulf. _I think we're done for the night._ Well, aren't they? What a stupid argument, another in a long line for them. And there was Gulf, hanging up on him like some bitchy boyfriend. No, not boyfriend. At least not his boyfriend. 

Mew runs a hand through his hair. Why do they always end up like this? Is it really so bad that he can’t figure out why Tharn loves Type so much? And maybe they’ve already had this argument before. Several times. Can he help it that there’s never been a good answer? Hero complex can only cover so many sins. Can wanting to save someone really lead to true love? 

He can still feel his anger surrounding him, like electricity on his skin, radiating outward. His fucking nong. What did he say about Tharn? _"Well, I can't understand what Type sees in Tharn. He's a sulky, whiney, nagging little bitch who's so desperate to feel loved that he'll put up with all kinds of things from a cocky little shit talker like Type."_ Mew doesn’t know why he’s so insulted. It’s not like Gulf was talking about him. And yet, wasn’t he? On some level, isn’t it a reflection of how Mew portrayed him? How Mew interprets him on screen? He didn’t mean to make Tharn so sulky or whiney or nagging. And the worst part is Tharn’s actions so closely resemble his own, that now that Mew thinks about it, Gulf _was_ insulting him. He just didn’t know it. 

But this is beside the point. The point is Type is an asshole, whether Gulf recognizes it or not. It irritates him to no end how defensive Gulf is about his character. Talk about denial. It isn’t even until the second half of the season that Type even becomes tolerable. Only then do they see those rare moments when they actually seem like a happy couple. But of course, that’s probably what Gulf is focusing on. Always thinking about the endgame, always romanticizing their relationship when it’s been through hell and back several times. 

He leaves the rest of his stuff in the drying rack. Fuck the dishes. He grabs his keys and decides to pick up food instead. Mild can survive a night without a home cooked meal. 

__________________________

“Pad Thai?" Mild looks at the plate in front of him. "Since when do you know how to make pad Thai?"

"Since never." Mew pushes his food around the plate. "It's from the food stall around the corner." 

Mild nods and takes a large bite. "Oh, I love them!" He says through a mouthful of noodles. 

Mew doesn't pay much attention to Mild's chatter throughout dinner. His fight with Gulf is still heavy on his mind. How can his junior continue to be so defensive about a dick like Type? 

"Nong," says Mew, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

"Huh?" 

"Why do you think Tharn falls in love with Type?" 

A look of understanding washes over Mild's face. "I should have known. No wonder you've been zoning out during my recap of that tender night I spent in Earth Pirapat's arms…" 

"Wa ngi na?" _What did you say?_

Mild's entire body shakes with laughter. "Lo len, lo len!" _Just kidding, just kidding._ He pats his arm. "It was in the afternoon. Anyway! I should have figured you and the pretty one were fighting. You and your lovers quarrels." He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Well?" 

"Well what?" His mouth makes a perfect O. "Oh! Why does Tharn love Type? Shia, how come you don't know?" He smacks his arm. 

Mew rubs the spot. "I don't know! I feel like I’m missing something. I don't have a thing for asshole guys. I like them cute and nice and-"

"You like brats."

"And brats are not assholes."

"Well, neither is Type."

Mew throws his hands in the air. "Why do people keep saying that? Am I reading a different script?" 

Mild shakes his head. "No, you're just not reading it as hard as the rest of us. I had to ask myself why Techno puts up with Type as a best friend, remember?"

"And?"

Mild's eyes go wide. "Are you trying to copy my homework na?" He chuckles. "What did you tell me was the difference between the script and the actors?" 

Mew groans. "The script is the _what_ , and the actors are the _why_." He leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. "I've been asking _why_ this whole time. Why does he love Type so much?" 

"You said so yourself,” says Mild. “He liked Type from the beginning. The groundwork was already laid." 

Mew scratches his head. "Yeah, but then he turns into an asshole- fine, fine- he _acts_ like an asshole. So, why would Tharn continue to go from liking him to loving him?”

Mild taps him on the head with his fork. "Think! How did you even get a Master's degree? What kind of person is Tharn?"

"Caring."

"And what does Type let Tharn do?"

Mew looks down at the kitchen table. "He lets Tharn take care of him." He sighs. "So?"

"What does Tharn want from a relationship?"

"He wants someone he can take care of forever, someone who will love him forever and not leave him like everyone else." He groans and leans back in his chair. "So what? It's not until the very end that you know Type is his last love. What makes Tharn so sure before then?"

Mild leans on the table. "Have you even tried understanding who Type is as a person?" He points at him. "What's that advice you gave me once? You have to learn everyone's lines, not just your own. Why did you say that?"

Mew remembers the advice. He always thought he was cool when he said it, but now he feels ridiculous. "Because it's not just about what your character does that shapes their personality, it's how others react to your character." 

"How does Tharn react to Type?" 

"He laughs at him. He's amused by his childish behavior." 

"Why? Why isn't he afraid of him? Why doesn’t he hate him?"

Mew sighs. "Because he's cute. Because Tharn knows he's harmless, that it's just a front. He's just lashing out because he's hurt."

"Yes!" Mild points at him. "Yes, keep going, keep going." 

"...and Tharn knows that if he can lower Type’s walls and take the pain away, then Type will… ugh! I lost it." 

It's embarrassing. Mew is usually better at character analysis than this. There's something about Type that blocks his brain. Something that stops him dead in his tracks and keeps him from seeing the whole picture. Why does his mind go blank whenever he tries to figure him out?

"I give up," says Mild, shoving the last bit of food in his mouth. He grabs the dishes and leaves to wash them. 

__________________

_Mew looked at Fasai, the love of his life, with seething rage coursing through his blood. He wasn't even sure what they were fighting about anymore. Something about her tone of voice. It was always her tone of voice, always so irritable. Or it was his attitude in response to her tone. Always the sulking, always the pity party, as she called it._

_"Quit acting like a child," she snapped at him._

_"Quit acting like a jerk," he snapped back._

_"You started this fight and the second I call you out on your behavior, you play the victim?" She shook her head. "You should learn to own up to your mistakes."_

_He glared at her from the couch. "Do you always have to be so cruel and point out my shortcomings?"_

_"It was you who started this!" She threw her hand in the air. "You began by pointing out all the things I do wrong! Did you conveniently forget that?"_

_"That's not what happened!"_

_"Oh, so you didn't passive aggressively imply that I-"_

_"There you go again!" Mew interrupted. "Why do you always accuse me of being passive aggressive?"_

_She sneered at him from across the coffee table. "Because you can't be a grown-up and just express how you're feeling. You have to be sly about it.”_

_Her words felt like a stab to the chest. It was true. He_ had _been passive aggressive about it. The thought of coming out and saying exactly what he felt made him feel too exposed, too vulnerable. He only acted out because he was hurt and damnit, he didn’t think he had to explicitly state it for his girlfriend to notice. He didn’t think he had to pitch a fit just for her to recognize that his heart was hurting. And now she was angry with him for sulking and lashing out when he was in pain. Damnit, Fasai. It’s not like he was an asshole. He was just acting like one because his heart was hurt._

"Meung!" Mild slaps his face. 

He snorts awake and stares at him in the dark. Only his outline is visible. His head is pounding from the memory of the dream. "Was I fighting with Fasai?" 

Mild nods. "Incoherent, for the most part. But your mumbling sounded pretty harsh. You guys really went for the jugular, didn't you?" 

"Something like that."

“Try to go back to sleep.”

_"New, my darling, can we talk about our relationship?"_

_It was the first time they had spoken in three days. Mew wasn’t sure how he had survived it, to be honest. But three days had come and gone, and what hurt the most was that he hadn’t missed her until the third day. He suspected she felt the same. Yet when he did finally miss her, it was with his entire soul. An emptiness that suddenly appeared and grew until he couldn’t take it anymore and he rushed to make up with her._

_He looked into her eyes. He’d been expecting this for weeks, possibly months. How long had things been this bad? "Of course. When?"_

_"How's now?"_

_They sat together on the couch. He held her the way he'd held her so many times, arms wrapped around her shoulders, her body leaning back against him. It was how they watched television, how they listened to music or read books together. And now, it was how they would break up._

_"I don't want to keep hurting you," she said._

_"We keep hurting each other," he corrected. "And I don't want that, either."_

_"Should we end it, my darling?" She looked at him over her shoulder, threading her fingers in his. "Should we stop before we end up hating each other?"_

_How very Fasai. Blunt and to the point. He loved that about her. He loved so many things about her. Why did he always forget that when they fought? He squeezed her tightly, inhaling her perfume, desperate to remember it. "I love you, you know."_

_"That's why we have to do this," she whispered. "Because I love you, too. And I don't want to lose you."_

_He chuckled. "And what? Stay friends? Does that actually happen with exes?"_

_"If anyone can pull it off, it's us."_

_He kissed the top of her head. How heavy his heart was, how strained his chest felt. The pressure behind his eyes begged for release and to cry until he had no more tears. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want to stop being in love with Fasai._

_"How will I ever stop wanting to kiss you?" He asked._

_She turned again and touched his cheek. "We can do it slowly, ease off little by little until it doesn't hurt anymore."_

_"No." He shook his head. "I don't want to feel you slip away. If we end it, we end it."_

_She nodded and leaned back against him. "Fair enough. Maybe take some time away from each other to heal before we try being friends."_

_It killed Mew to hear these words. It meant it was actually happening. The ache in his chest kept building, threatening to force its way out of him. He didn't want to go on without her. And yet he already was. He didn't want to go without her companionship, her quirks, her passion. But it was already happening, wasn't it? How long had it been since they had truly enjoyed each other's company? How long since they had gone days without fighting? Their breakup had been happening for a while now._

_"Some time apart would help," he agreed._

_She helped him pack up his belongings at her apartment. Toothbrush, sleep clothes, books, DVDs, toiletries. He did the same for her at his place. They made love one last time, clutching each other tightly, with nothing but the sounds of their breathing in sync, their lips in endless kisses, and the heartbreaking moans of their final duet. And when it ended, Mew held her close while they cried together._

________________________

Mild brings a bowl of congee to Mew. “Mmgh.” He puts a spoon in his hand. 

“Thanks na.”

“It’s the only thing I know how to cook,” he says. “So, how was the breakup?” 

Mew sighs and stirs his breakfast. “Better than I remember. We made the right choice.” He takes a spoonful and nods. “Not bad. Better than the food stall.” 

Mild preens and serves himself a bowl. “So, is that everyone? Are you done with your tour of exes?”

“Two more,” he tells him. “I don’t know if they count, though. They weren’t relationships, per se. We just went out a few times.” 

Mild hums in thought. “Listen, I gotta stay at my place tonight. I’ve got… guests.” 

“OffGun?”

His friend chuckles. “I don’t do reruns.” He winks and resumes his breakfast. 

Mew never really knows if Mild is joking. He’s 90% sure he is, but that last 10% always nags at him. Then again, it’s probably not possible for all those BL boys to be into other guys. They’re actors, after all. Not everyone is so hopelessly fucked like he is. “I’ll be fine by myself tonight,” he says. 

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” Mild warns. 

_________________

Eye is waiting at the front door when Mew gets home from work. “Nong?”

She looks up from her phone. “Phi!” She finishes typing something before jumping up for a hug. “I was wondering when you’d get home. Listen, I want to run my experiment by you. I was doing some chemical reactions, and I thought _wouldn’t it be funny if I add tri-”_

“Wait, wait…” Mew cuts her off. “What are you doing here?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “P’Mild didn’t tell you? I’m monitoring your sleep tonight.”

Mew lets her inside and harnesses Chopper for his walk. “I don’t know about this,” he says. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to share a bed.” 

Eye laughs again and opens her bag. “Men…” she pulls out something that looks like a small tv screen. “I’ll be sleeping next to this, not you.” She shows it to him. 

“Uh…”

She sighs. “It’s a baby monitor, Phi.” She giggles and puts it away. “I’ll sleep on the couch with it, and I’ll come wake you if you start dreaming. Honestly… same bed.” She laughs louder this time. 

“It’s not _that_ funny…”

She pats his arm as they take Chopper around the neighborhood. “How was work? I heard you guys are fighting. Again.” 

“Gulf was off today. We shot some of Tharn’s birthday.” 

“And you didn’t bring me any cake. How rude.” 

Mew cooks dinner when they get back. Poached salmon and sauteed vegetables. He needs a break from Thai food. Everything’s been reminding him of Gulf lately. He needs something out of the ordinary. He needs to distance himself from Gulf so he can focus on this stupid Type problem. 

Eye leans her elbow on the table. “So, the question is how does Tharn know that Type is worth all the trouble?”

Mew nods, spooning a large helping of broccoli into his mouth. He can make peace with Tharn already having a crush on Type before their war. It’s that pesky love bit that’s killing him. 

Eye sighs and pushes her food around her plate. “How do any of us know that someone’s worth it?” 

If Mew knew that answer, he’d be a different man. Hadn’t he thought every love of his was his last love? Hadn’t he bought into the fairy tale every time he got into a relationship? Hadn’t he trusted too much that the person he loved would love him back just as much? Countless times he opened his heart and all it got him was another scar. Cheated on. Resented. Coming home to an empty house. What would it take to convince him that next time would be the last time? 

“Do you know what my favorite thing about Tharn and Type’s relationship is, Phi?”

“Hm?”

“Their trust.” She smiles and leans on her elbow again. “When Type leaves Puifai’s place, he’s so confused. He doesn’t know how he feels about Tharn, he doesn’t know why he can’t stop thinking about him, and he sure as hell doesn’t know why he can’t get it up for all of this loveliness.” She gestures to herself and giggles. Mew laughs, too. He has such cute nongs. 

“But he goes straight home to Tharn,” she continues. “He doesn’t waste time trying to figure out his feelings. He rushes to Tharn and tells him everything. Can you imagine that amount of trust?”

Mew closes his eyes and thinks back to that day of shooting. He tries to go through the scene from Type’s perspective. How confused he must have been. Feeling jealous of the idea that Tharn could sleep with other men, but not knowing why it made him so mad. Being with Puifai but thinking of Tharn. Touching her while thinking of him. And then having the courage to confess all his thoughts and confusion to Tharn, not even knowing if he would forgive him. So much uncertainty, so much on the line, and yet Type risked it all because he couldn’t stand one more minute of being away from Tharn. 

It’s so in character, isn’t it? Type didn’t think anything through, didn’t have any plan in mind. It's not his way. Type charges into everything without strategy, just like the day he confronted Tharn about his sexuality. He supposes Type felt betrayed when he found out that the person he lived with and trusted was the same kind of person who had hurt him. 

And that's really it, isn't it? Hurt. It's why he got aggressive in the first place, why Type ever gets aggressive. And Tharn knows this. He knows what a child Type is, like when he wrecked his stuff and tried to piss him off by inviting his friends over. He knows his anger and wrath, his ignorance, his hotheadedness. 

But Tharn also knows how fragile Type really is. How lonely he feels, how scared. Afraid that his scars will show if he doesn't put up a front, afraid to be seen as a victim rather than a person. Refusing help because he thinks it stems from pity. He would rather be hated than seen as weak or pathetic. Or damaged. But most of all, Type just wants to be loved. He wants to be understood and accepted. He wants to belong to somewhere or someone. To be given a place, as Gulf said. 

And Tharn sees all that. Not because he was looking for something to exploit, but because he can see Type for who he really is. And Tharn wants so badly to give Type all the things he needs, all the acceptance and adoration he deserves. Because Type is damaged. There's no pretty way to put it. Type is damaged, but he's pieced himself together the only way he knows how, and he's used it to survive. He could have let his trauma destroy him, but instead he repurposed it. Mew supposes that in the end, he can't blame Type for turning out so hateful and destructive. His soul has been a battlefield all this time, and all he knows is war. 

And yet, Type's capacity for love is incredible, at least the way Gulf portrays him. His willingness to trust Tharn, to lower his walls. Hasn't Mew experienced a similar thing with Gulf? Seeing that closed off boy at workshop slowly open up to him, learning that his quietness and adorable resting bitch face were just barriers that he used to protect himself. To protect his heart. Shia. 

That's what Mew's been missing. Heart. It's what controls Type, isn't it? Not his head, because the stubborn bastard never thinks before he acts. Not his anger. His anger stems from however his heart is feeling. If it feels threatened, he attacks to defend it. But if he feels safe, like how he does around Tharn, then he lets himself be loved. He lets himself be taken care of. Because it's what he wants most, isn't it? To be relieved of the burden of guarding himself all the time. To belong to someone. To be without walls. And shia, if someone could get Type to do that, wouldn't he let that person take care of him for the rest of his life? Wouldn't he cherish that love forever? 

Which is exactly what he did. Fuck. Mew missed all the signs. All the times Type pushed Tharn away, it wasn't because he was uncommitted. It was because he was scared to let himself be vulnerable. He needed to know Tharn would love him back. He needed to know he could trust him with his heart. Because for Type, once he gives his heart to someone, it's forever. 

"Phi?" Eye shakes his arm. 

Mew's eyes focus back on his junior. "Huh?" He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm an idiot."

"You just now noticed?"

He gives her a face and takes a spoonful of her food. "It's a heart thing," he tells her. 

She gives him a knowing grin. "Why do I get the feeling you're not talking about Omega 3 fatty acids?" 

Mew gets up from the table. "I have a phone call to make. Sorry, nong. Are you good finishing dinner by yourself?" 

She pulls out her phone. "Who says I'll be by myself?"

Mew laughs and pats her on the shoulder. "Tell Fasai I said hi." 

She salutes him. "Will do." 

_____________

Mew closes his bedroom door and listens to the endless ringing on his phone. Is Gulf ignoring his call?

"Hello?" 

Fuck. Mew doesn't know what to say. "He does everything with his heart," he blurts out. 

"Khrab." A one word answer. How Gulf. And yet he doesn't sound upset anymore. 

"Even when he hates," Mew continues, "it's because his heart is hurting." 

"Khrab."

"And when he loves…" Mew sighs. He can't believe it took him so long to figure it out. "It's with his whole heart. He doesn't show it well, but if you look for it, it's there." Gulf was trying to show him all along.

"Khrab." 

Now to own up to his prejudice against him. "He changes a lot, too. Not just from hate to love. He becomes a considerate person. He's more open, letting people know he and Tharn are together. He becomes selfless." Because he's not really an asshole. He just acts like one.

"Khrab." 

Mew laughs. Not a normal laugh. His throat and his chest hurt because he realizes he's crying. "He learns to control his temper, too." He sniffles and grabs a tissue. 

Gulf says nothing.

"And yet…" Mew's voice trails off. How should he word it? "Tharn doesn't know any of this will happen. So, that's not why he loves Type." 

Mew's breath is shaky. Why is he crying? "But he doesn't have to know what the future holds. He just needs to know Type." He sniffles again. "He knows that Type puts his whole heart into everything. So, if he's lucky enough to be loved by Type, then he knows that that love will be unconditional and will last forever." 

He hears sniffling on the other end. He can't be…? "You crying, too?" He asks.

"No, just you," Gulf says with a laugh. He hears more sniffling. 

Mew smiles. He's missed hearing Gulf's laugh. "Sorry na for being an asshole."

It sounds like Gulf is laughing and crying at the same time. "You were just acting like one."

Mew exhales. Does this mean they've made up? There's still a question bugging him. "Yai Nong?" 

"Yes, Khun Phi?"

He grips his phone. "Why does Type love Tharn?" 

Silence again. Did he push things too far by asking? "Because Tharn understands him," says gulf. "He's seen how damaged he is, and the ugliness he's capable of. He's seen the darkest parts of Type, but he never turns away from him."

Mew notes the use of the word _damaged._ "Khrab."

"It's not just that he can be himself with Tharn. It's that he doesn't have to hide anything from him. Tharn's the one person he can be completely vulnerable with."

Mew smiles. He feels a weight lift from his chest. Of course Gulf would know all of this. Of course he knew it from the beginning. He understands their characters so much, more than he ever will. "Khrab."

Gulf chuckles. "And the handsome bastard's amazing in bed." 

Mew laughs in shock. He wasn't expecting that, and yet it's so characteristically Gulf that he's really not surprised. "So, is it Type or Gulf who thinks Tharn is handsome?" He just can't help but flirt with his Yai Nong, can he? 

Gulf's response is nervous and abrupt. "Neither. I misspoke." Nevertheless, he hears him mumble, "How many times do I have to say it na?" 

Fuck, he's too cute. "If it's Type, a few more. If it's Gulf, a lot more."

"Huh." He can hear Gulf shifting around. Is he on his bed? "I never get those compliments from you." 

Lies. "Of course you do." 

"Alai? When?" 

He pauses. Hasn't he said those things lately? "Hmm, you're right." He stretches out on his bed. "I say them, but not to you. Maybe I should, huh?" 

"Who are you talking to about me?" 

He laughs again. "Apparently everyone but you." 

There's another pause on Gulf's end. "What kinds of things?" 

"Mm, curious?" Should he tell him?

"If it's about me, yes! What are you telling people?" Gulf doesn't sound upset. He can hear the smile in his voice. Is he hoping for flattery?

Mew's laughter is playful. "Nothing much. You know, Yai Nong looks so handsome today, look he's being cute again, I like how flippy his hair is this morning, P'Mew's nong is so handsome… should I go on?" Because he could. Mostly he says these things to the makeup artists and hair stylists. He can never help but chit chat when he's in a group of women. 

"Careful, Khun Phi, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Mew closes his eyes, letting Gulf's words wrap around him, wishing they were true. He looks at the moon shell on his night stand. "Would that be so bad?"

___________________

_Mew looked at Mint as they sat on the park bench. Her short hair was pulled to the side with a Hello Kitty clip. "N'Mint?"_

_She turned to him and smiled. "It's okay, P'Mew. You can say it na kha."_

_He took a deep breath. She was so sweet, so understanding. He could tell that much from the four dates they had been on. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you."_

_She giggled and touched his arm. "Me, too kha. But I think I know where this is going na kha."_

_At least it was mutual. "You feel the same way?"_

_She shrugged. "You're a lovely person, Phi." She held his hand. "But I think neither of us have felt any kind of spark. Such a shame. Phi is so handsome!" She blushed and looked away. She certainly was cute._

_It was a good breakup. They hugged goodbye and went their separate ways. Mew decided to walk around the park, prepare himself for single life again. Maybe he'd stay away from the dating scene for a while._

_His phone rang. "Hello khrab?"_

_"New-New."_

_He stopped dead in his tracks. How long had it been since he heard from her? "Fasai." It wasn't a question._

_He heard sniffling on the other end. "Mew… I'm sorry, I didn't know who else to call."_

_"What's the matter?"_

_She sighed. "There's… there's been a car acc-accident. I-I can't be alone right now. P-please, Mew."_

_Shia. "Are you okay?"_

_"It was my parents and brother."_

_"Are you home? I'll be right there."_

_"I moved to a new condo. I'll t-text the address… thank you, Mew." She sounded so broken._

_She rushed into his arms the second he arrived. Mascara was smeared down her face and she was shaking. He led her to the couch and held her for a long time as she cried._

_She sighed and wiped her face, her breath finally steadying. He watched her compose herself, gathering what little strength she had left and restoring her facade of invulnerability. She looked once more like the fierce and determined Fasai he knew and still loved._

_"I have to stop by the morgue this afternoon to arrange for their death certificates." Her voice had a cold and sharp edge to it. Her lawyer voice, as Mew liked to call it._

_"I'll go with you."_

_And just like that, her facade crumbled and she was back in his arms. "I didn't want to bother you," she sobbed into his shirt._

_"It's no bother."_

_"I just… I just didn't have any-anyone else…"_

_He smoothed her hair and shushed her crying. "It's okay. I'm here na. We're supposed to be friends, remember? Whatever you need, I'm here."_

_She cried for a little longer. Mew brought her water and something small to eat so she wouldn't feel faint. He held her hand and kissed her forehead and helped her make a list of people to contact about her family's passing. In the blink of an afternoon, she had become an orphan. No longer a daughter, no longer a sister._

_"It's strange," she said. "I can't remember the last time I saw them. I've been so busy with work. And now I have no family."_

_Mew reached out for her hand. "I'm your family."_

Mew wakes up on his own. He runs a hand through his hair and gets up for a glass of water. The light in the living room is on, and he sees Eye sitting up on the couch, her legs pulled up to her chest. 

"Nong?"

She turns to him with tears in her eyes. "I didn't mean to snoop," she said. "I woke up at the end of your breakup, but the rest was over so quickly." She gestures to the screen of the baby monitor. 

He gives her a comforting smile and joins her on the couch. He places his arm around her and she curls against his chest. "She never told me," she says. Her voice is so small. 

"I imagine not. She doesn't like people to pity her."

"I was so stupid to ask about her family. And here I thought she didn't want them to meet me." 

He rubs her arm. "Trust me, she would have brought you home to meet them." 

"Thanks, Phi." 

"Come on. Let's get some water and go back to bed na." 


	33. Welcome Home pt. 2

Tharn sighs and throws his arm over his boyfriend. He's so warm and squishy and adorable, lying on the couch and demanding his attention. He can't resist his cuddly phi, and he nuzzles his head into his chest. 

Type laughs at him. "What's wrong with you?" 

He looks up, unable to restrain the dopey, lovesick smile on his face. He can't imagine being any happier than this moment. "Do you enjoy it?" 

"And are you enjoying rubbing your head on me?" 

"I'm not only enjoying it, but I'm also on cloud nine."

His boyfriend snickers. "So corny." 

"I admit it."

His grin sends butterflies through his stomach. Will he ever get used to his grumpy boyfriend looking at him like that? 

"I'm happy, too," says Type, and Tharn feels as if his heart might burst from elation. How long had he pined for Type, hoping against all odds that they might end up like this? Living together, snuggling like this, and being in love? His smile couldn't be any wider as he stares at his beloved, wondering how he got to be so lucky. 

"Cut khrab. Looks good, boys." 

Gulf continues to play with Mew's hair. "Huh," he says. "It's really not that soft." 

Mew continues to smile at his junior. What a brat. "It's got product in it. You have to feel it when it's fresh from the shower."

He cocks an eyebrow in response. "Do you plan on me being there when you get out of the shower?" 

"I don't plan. Only hope." 

"Phi is very flirtatious today." 

He pokes at Gulf's tummy. "I have a bet to win, remember?" 

His co-star grabs his finger and squeezes it. "You have a _heart_ to win. P'Mild is the one who'll win the bet." 

"I'm always happy to help a friend." 

When Gulf pulls his hand away, his fingers linger for a bit. "Khun Phi wouldn't be helping himself?" 

He leans in close and wrinkles his nose at him. "I'd love to help myself." His eyes roam Gulf's face, neck, and chest. A hunger builds in the pit of his stomach. Gulf looks so soft and yummy on the couch, his belly easily accessible for all the attention Mew wants to give it. How does Gulf manage to do this to him all the time? 

His junior smiles and stretches his entire body. He makes the most delicious noise as he does so, his face content and smiley. "Then I suggest Khun Phi try harder na. You can start by reviewing the checklist." He smirks and lays an arm over his forehead. His lips smack in a sleepy manner. Nalak nalak. _So cute._ Mew suspects he'll be asleep in about two minutes. 

_________________________

_Schlick schlick. Schlick schlick._ Gulf is doing it again. _Schlick schlick. Schlick schlick._ Mew looks up from his phone. He doesn't even realize he's doing it. _Schlick schlick. Schlick schlick._

"Nong." His voice is more of a growl than a word. 

"Hm?" His junior looks up, unphased. 

"You're doing it again." _It_ being that annoying new habit of sliding his retainer in and out of his mouth. 

Gulf clasps a hand over his lips. "Oh. Sorry na, Phi." 

Five minutes later. _Schlick schlick. Schlick schlick._ Mew sighs and walks off in a huff. Until the day comes that he can stop that stupid habit by kissing him, he'll just have to keep his distance. 

___________________

Mew pops the last strawberry into his mouth. It's been a good breakfast. He sees Grumpy Gulf enter the room and head directly for him. His resting bitch face is especially cute this morning. 

"I hate being up so early." He makes a face and falls into Mew's lap. 

"Ay!" Mew winces and pushes him off. "My… aaah… shia." He grabs at his poor crotch. Fuck, it hurts. He glares up at Gulf, who is… laughing. Of course. He closes his eyes and turns away. Fucking brat. 

Gulf cups his cheek. He's still laughing. "Khun Phi, are you okay na?" 

He groans. "Let me punch you in the balls and you tell me if you're okay."

"Aow, is it that bad?" He runs his fingers through Mew's hair. It's almost enough to alleviate the pain in his groin. Almost. 

"Brat."

Gulf chuckles and pets his arm. "Come on na. Get up, let me make it better."

Mew opens his eyes. Wa ngi na? "What are you going to do?"

His junior smiles and helps him to his feet. "Up, Khun Phi. Up, up." He pulls him out of the chair and sits in it himself. He pats his lap. "Ma ma ma. Come on, big baby. Your turn." 

Big baby. The little shit. He gives Gulf a look. "Is this your way of making it up to me?" 

He grins and pulls him down onto his lap. "It's the only way I know how." 

Mew rolls his eyes. Of course Gulf would quote the script at him. He allows himself to be seated in his junior's lap. It's not the first time. Usually Mew does it to tease his Nong. He likes to spread out over Gulf's entire lap, lay his head back on his shoulder and put as much weight on him as possible just to mess with him. Like some large dog that thinks it's still a puppy. 

Gulf's arms wrap around him. "Sorry na, Khun Phi." The weight of Gulf's head rests on his back. "Want me to kiss it better?" 

"Ha ha." Mew scoffs and adjusts his position. 

"Ow!" 

He glances back. "Did I hurt you?" 

Gulf's grip on him tightens. "My… got pinched… just don't move na." 

"I believe they call this poetic justice." 

__________________

Mew and Gulf stand about a meter apart, both on their phones, both turned away from each other. Mew doesn't even know who started it this time. Were they even fighting about anything? Maybe they were just pissy about the argument scene they just shot. He scratches his head. Everything sucks. Didn't he and Gulf just make up about the whole why Tharn loves Type thing? And now they're bickering constantly and sulking at each other. 

It's been insufferable. Gulf's been getting on his last nerve almost every day. Claiming to forget things they talked about just the night before, even though it was his idea in the first place. That fucking thing he does with his retainer. And Mew's pretty sure that Grumpy Gulf hissed at him one morning. 

He looks up from his phone. Shia. They really weren't fighting over anything. Why are they irritable at each other? He feels cold now, suddenly missing the warmth of his co-star. He misses the weight of him against his body. Gulf stirs and starts to walk away. 

"Yai Nong?" His voice comes out low and pleading. He didn't mean to sound so needy, but there it is. How whipped he is for this damn brat. 

Gulf's expression softens. He recognizes it as the look that Type gives Tharn when all is forgiven. The indulgent smile of someone who can't stay angry for long. "Yes, Khun Phi?" 

Mew approaches him and wraps his arms around his soft body, hugging him close and stroking his hair. "Sorry na. Sorry. I'm sorry." He keeps repeating his apology. 

Gulf rubs his back, pressing his cheek against his. "I'm sorry, too." Is it possible he missed him back just as much?

Mew looks at him. "I should know better." It's true. He sees now that it's been work that's getting to them. The friction between Tharn and Type is starting to leak into their lives. They both knew the risk, back when they agreed to go all in for this performance. But perhaps they've taken things too far and let their worlds bleed into each other. 

Gulf swallows, his breath coming out shaky. "Sometimes I don't know how to stop being Type."

Mew's smile is sad. "Sometimes I don't want to stop being Tharn."

Gulf slides his hands to Mew's waist, where he's most ticklish. Surprisingly, it doesn't bother him."I like my Khun Phi better."

Mew can't help but laugh. When did the little shit become such a charmer? He cups his cheek and Gulf leans into his palm and smiles. How lovely he looks in this moment.

If only they could make up like this when the shit hits the fan. If only they could somehow clock out of being Tharn and Type. Perhaps… "Let's do this na," he says. "When we finish a scene, let's do this until we feel like ourselves again." 

Gulf nods and closes his eyes. "Khrab. Let's do this na." 

P'Pee walks by with an arm full of clothes. He looks at them and sighs. "Finally. I'm sick of you two fighting." He shakes his head and walks away.

_____________________

Type grabs at Tharn's shirt, twisting his collar and pulling him up. It’s happened countless times before, but for once, it feels like Type means it. He hasn't seen his boyfriend this hostile since before they were dating. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. 

"And why don't you tell me, too, that this kid is your ex boyfriend?" 

Fuck. Why did he have to lie? He’s never lied to Type before. Not really. Withheld information, sure. But never straight up lied like he did tonight. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to hurt anybody, and maybe that was his mistake. In the end, someone had to go away in pain.

If Tar had only listened to him. If he had only been more direct. Hadn't he told him it was over? Hadn't he told him he loved someone else? But he had to be nice, didn't he? His worst flaw, being too nice. It should have ended at the cafe. It should have ended right then, and never gone any further. It shouldn’t have happened this way.

He looks at Type's eyes. Furious and confrontational. A Type he remembers and wishes he would never see again. And it's all because he's hurt. Type trusted him, and now all of this mess is making him think the worst. Things that didn't even happen, things that would never happen. Surely Type would believe him. Surely Type knows how much he loves him. 

"So, how was it?" He taunts. "Did he taste as good as when you were together? Was it satisfying? You hadn't seen him for a year."

_Please, Type, don't do this._ The words seer into him, stinging even though they aren't true. They aren't remotely true. He was shocked to see Tar, but he knew from the moment he saw him at the mall that there was no more love for him. 

"That kid was crying for your attention. Or are you going to tell me P'Tharn who screws around… couldn't get it up?" Type's trying to get a reaction from him. He wants a reason to lose control. But Tharn doesn't want a fight. He just wants to make everything right, can't people see that? 

"It's not what you think. There's nothing going on." He reaches for his hands, but Type pulls away. The action is like a stab to his heart. How long has it been since Type pulled away from him like that? 

"Do you expect me to believe someone who's been lying to me?" 

And there it is. Yes, he lied. Yes, he snuck out to see his ex. God, it’s like one of those Greek tragedies. He just wanted to avoid hurting people, and now he’s hurting everyone. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He never meant to lie. 

Type’s face is so cruel as he tries to provoke him. _Argue with me. Answer me._ Type is shaking. This is all wrong. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t have lied. He should have told him everything. But now Type is so angry, lashing out and weaponizing his pain. 

"Does he still affect you?" He asks. 

Yes. But it’s not as simple as that. None of his exes have ever wanted him back. If Type thinks that someone can be dumped as many times as he has and not be affected when one of them says he still loves him, then he doesn’t know him at all. It’s not a fair question. He loved Tar. Of course he still affects him. He may not love him anymore, but there’s still the scar tissue of being left by someone he thought he would spend forever with. So, he can’t lie to Type. He won’t lie anymore and say that Tar doesn’t affect him, because the heartache of their breakup will always be with him. And so he says nothing. 

"Answer me!" Type grabs his shirt again. "Does he affect you?" 

That’s not the right question. The question should be _Am I the only one you love?_ Because that’s the answer Tharn has. And that’s the only question that should matter. 

"Just deny it and I'll believe everything you say." 

_Type, please._ He’s asking the wrong thing. He has to know, right? He has to know that being affected by his ex and only loving the person in front of him are two different things, right? He has to know that he’s the only one. 

Tharn reaches out for his arm. He can’t stand to look into those cruel eyes. "I love you with all my heart, Type."

But that’s not what he asked. Even though he should have. And Type won’t hear any of it. 

"Do you expect me to believe someone who can't answer a simple question?" 

But it’s not simple. It’s never simple. He wishes Type could understand. How can Tar not affect him anymore after what they went through? Type knows nothing about abandonment. "...I'll never meet Tar again." he grabs Type’s hands. 

"I don't want to hear that kid's name in this room." 

"Type…" he tries to hold him. If he could just wrap his arms around him and take away the pain. If he could just hold him and tell him he’s sorry and that he loves him. If he could just-

"Let go of me." He pushes Tharn away.

He hasn't said that to him since before they started dating. Back then he said it all the time. His constant rejection to him. Let go of me. In the shower, on his bed, when Puifai would text him. _Let go of me_. Doesn’t he know? For the rest of his life, Tharn will never let go of him. Not in his heart. Because Tharn’s heart belongs to Type now. He claimed it long ago when he grabbed at it in the shower, when they made love the first time, and every night thereafter. Tharn can never let go, because Type is the only one. 

He watches his boyfriend put on his shoes. "Where are you going?" 

"None of your goddamn business!" Type leaves and slams the door behind him. 

Tharn stands alone in the room. Alone, the way he always ends up. Is it really better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Because this feels like shit. How many times had he thought he’d found love, only to end up standing in a room alone like this?

“Cut krab,” says P’Tee.

Tharn takes a deep breath. Guilt stabs at him for all the stupid mistakes he's made. Lying to his boyfriend. Sneaking around. Worst of all, not trusting Type enough to communicate with him. Type lowered his walls for Tharn, so why didn't he do the same? 

Mew shakes his head to clear it. His eyes blur with tears, but he can't let himself get carried away. He struggles to rebuild the mental barrier that separates him from his character, forcing away the guilt and torment of Tharn. Gulf reenters the room, avoiding eye contact with him. Mew wipes at his tears and his co-star does the same. He's still in character, isn't he? Mew places a hand on his shoulder. "Type." He pulls him in for a hug, feeling initial resistance give way to surrender. Gulf deflates in his arms, spent and exhausted. 

"Yai Nong…" he whispers. "Yai Nong, are you okay?" 

Gulf doesn't respond, only rests more of his weight on him.

"It's me, I'm here," says Mew, stroking his hair. "I'm here, Nong." 

Gulf wraps his arms around him and squeezes. He pats his back with a closed fist. "I'm okay, Khun Phi." 

Mew breathes a sigh of relief. "You had me worried." He pulls away and looks at him. "You're crying." He wipes away at his tears. It's only going to get harder from here. 

Gulf lets him, standing still like the good boy he claims he can be. "Thanks na Phi khrab." 

"Hm." Mew smiles back. They've spent the whole day together, but it feels like he hasn't seen Gulf in a long time.

"This was a good idea," says. He leans in for another hug. "It's like I get to come home to you." 

The bloom in Mew's chest opens and spreads its petals. He basks in the warmth and glow from his Yai Nong. "Careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf laughs, poking him in the side and laughing harder when he yelps. "You should know by now, Phi, I'm never careful."

__________________

Mew checks his watch again. They haven't heard back from Gulf in an hour since the accident. He jumps when P'Tee's phone rings. 

"Hello?" He looks at Mew and mouths Gulf's name. "Shai, shai." They talk for a bit and Mew tries to pick up what they're saying. P'Tee nods and relays the news to Mew. Someone ran into Gulf's car and he's calling a taxi to get to the set.

"I can pick him up," he offers. 

_____________________

Gulf sits in Mew's passenger seat. It's weird having him in his car. They've napped together in each other's arms, and yet this feels oddly intimate. Perhaps because they're alone, with nobody from the set within miles of them. It's like they shouldn't be this close to one another without the crew or the staff around them. For the first time, they're completely unchaperoned. Mew distracts himself by singing along with the stereo.

"This song is from my mother's time," says Gulf. "Are you really only 28?" 

Mew laughs. "It's from my mom's time, too. I grew up to it." 

"You still didn't answer my question." 

More laughter. "Why? Is it weird playing a couple with someone much older?" He winces as the words leave his mouth. There he goes, airing out his biggest worries.

"No," he says. "I like it better this way. You have more experience for me to learn from. And Khun Phi takes care of me." 

Ah, so that's it. "Yai Nong likes to be spoiled, I think." 

Gulf huffs and mutters, "Already said I like older in the TEP interview, does he need a replay?" 

Fuck, he forgot about that. How could he? He could barely contain his shock that day when he heard the word _older_ leave Gulf's lips. He likes older. And god, the noise he made when he heard Mew say younger. He didn't imagine it, right? 

"Hm?"

Gulf laughs. "Does Khun Phi need hearing aids na?" He raises his volume. "I said I like that you're older." 

He's so fucked. Did he really need to hear this while he's alone in a car with Gulf? He reaches over to pat his tummy. "Careful, or you'll make me fall for you." 

Gulf laughs and leans back in his seat. "I'd be okay with that. Khun Phi is very good to me." 

Yup. Very fucked.

_________________

There's music coming from his condo when he gets home. He's not even irritated that someone let themself inside without his permission. Is he really that lonely that he's missed coming home to someone? 

"I hope you're not a burglar," he calls when he gets inside. The aroma of yellow curry wafts from the kitchen. It can't be Mild, then.

"Welcome home." Fasai walks out in a frilly pink apron. 

Mew eyes her up and down. "Did you lose a bet?"

She looks at herself and sighs. "Oh, it's Pee's. He's out getting drinks for us."

Mew follows her to the kitchen. "Both of you tonight? Is it a special occasion?" 

She turns and stares at him. A wrinkle appears between her eyebrows. Mew hasn't seen that wrinkle in a long time. "You forgot what next weekend is, didn't you?"

"Someone's birthday?" He frowns when Fasai shakes her head. "Engagement? Baby shower?" 

"You just described the before and after."

He sees the invitation on the fridge behind her. Shia. Plum and Tigger's wedding. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Do I still have to go?"

"You know you do," she says, walking to the stove.

He looks at the invitation. "And _he'll_ be there." He traces his finger over their names.

"Why do you think Pee's getting drinks? We're here to strategize." She sighs and brings a spoonful of curry to his mouth. "Taste. Does it need more fish sauce?" 

He raises an eyebrow at her. "When did you learn to cook?" 

"A girl's gotta eat."

He smirks and does as he's told. "It's good. And you survived well enough on takeout before."

She smiles and hands him a stack of plates. "I never said the girl was me." 

Oh. 

______________

Pee pours them all whiskey and pats his forehead with a hanky. "Well, sticky rice, we've got our work cut out for us." 

"You didn't call Mild, right?" 

Pee hesitates. "We were going to ask you." 

"Don't." He gives them a weary smile. "He shouldn't have to choose sides."

Fasai places her hand over Mew's. "I asked Tigger and he said all five of us are at the same table. So, there's that, at least."

"Why couldn't he move _him_ to a different table?" As if attending the same wedding as his ex wasn't bad enough, now he'll have to sit with him?

Pee shakes his head. "Family politics, I'm sure."

"He's the bride's cousin," Mew whines. "Shouldn't he sit with family, not friends?" 

He shrugs. "Maybe Tigger's still hoping you two will get back together…"

Mew buries his face in his hands. "Can't I pretend to be sick?" He doesn't think he can handle an entire night with _him._

Fasai slaps his arm. "It's not about you, New. This is Tigger's day. Pee and I will get you through it." 

He sighs and pushes away his half finished plate. "Just tell me what to do."

____________

Pee adjusts the tie around Mew's neck. "Glad they went with a western style wedding." he smooths out the lapels of his jacket. "I really didn't want to shop for new chong kraben." 

Mew looks at his suit in the mirror. Stylish but not flashy. Classic. Definitely something that will let him disappear in a crowd. 

"I got pictures of the reception venue," says Fasai. She casts them onto Mew's television and points with a laser pen. "Main doors are here. Through this doorway are the bathrooms. Out the French doors is a balcony. Plenty of exits to make a quick getaway."

Mew sighs. "He's the one who left me, remember? I doubt he wants to be anywhere near me."

Pee pats his arm. "Are you going to be okay, sugar apple?" 

Mew nods and smiles at them. "It's not about me, right?" 

___________________

**Monday morning:**

Mew pulls up in front of Gulf's condo. Why are his hands shaking? He takes several deep breaths to calm himself. He's already given him a lift before, so why is he nervous? Gulf emerges from the building and a bubbling sensation rises in Mew's chest. He fumbles with his seatbelt and gets out of the car. 

"Morning," he says, almost too eagerly. He looks away to hide his embarrassment. He needs to get his shit together. It's Gulf, for fuck's sake. He reaches to take his bag. 

"Oh." His co-star looks surprised as he hands it over. Mew chuckles nervously and puts it in the back seat. After a second of deliberation, he straps it in with the seatbelt. The last thing he needs is to damage Gulf's stuff. 

"So…" god, he's a mess. He looks at his nong and smiles. "You look… alert this morning."

His junior chuckles. "My mom called to make sure I ate before you picked me up." 

"That's good." Mew nods and turns the music on. "After all, you can't sit in my lap while I drive." 

"Don't worry," Gulf waves away his comment. "I'll make up for it somehow." He laughs his little huh-huh laugh and Mew feels a rush in his gut that makes him smile.

**Monday evening:**

Gulf lowers the car seat and sighs. "Aaaah… that was a long day. Just carry me inside the condo when we get there."

Mew laughs and lowers the music. "Gonna nap on the way?" 

His co-star rubs his own tummy and smacks his lips. "Tempting. But tell me, Khun Phi, are you sure you're okay driving me? My mom can do it again starting Wednesday. I've only been driving myself because she's busy helping P’Grace with stuff." 

Mew grips the steering wheel. How's he supposed to answer that without sounding too eager? "No, it's fine," he says. His voice is a bit too high for his taste. "We can talk about work or get to know each other better this way." 

Gulf shrugs. "Okay." Just like that. So easy going, never needing much persuasion. He stretches, making the cutest noises. "Sing me to sleep na." He turns the stereo off. 

"Alai na?" 

His nong yawns and shifts positions to face him. Mew looks over when he reaches a stoplight. God, he's so cute. "Sing for me, Phi." His voice is so small. 

Mew sighs. He can never say no to his Yai Nong. He picks a more modern song this time and sings. Gulf hums along and snuggles into the seat. When he looks over at the next stoplight, he's asleep with his mouth hanging open. His heavy breathing can be heard over the sound of the engine. Nalak nalak. 

**Tuesday morning:**

"Yai Nong?" 

"Hm?"

"I forgot to tell you, I have this weekend off, so you'll be shooting a lot of the Tar and Techno scenes."

"Huh?" Gulf squirms in the passenger seat. "Both days?" 

He nods. "I have personal stuff to take care of. But I can drive you Saturday morning and Sunday evening."

"You don't have to," he says. Did he mean to sound so hasty? 

Mew reaches over and places his hand on Gulf's. "I want to. Will you let me?" He sneaks a glance at him and catches the faint smile on his chestnut lips. 

"Khrab." 

They sit in silence for a while before Gulf makes a noise. It's whiny and tentative, like he's trying to decide whether he should say something. 

"Yai Nong…" Mew shoots him a sideways look. 

He laughs and slaps his leg. "Khun Phi khrab, I have something to ask you." 

"Hm?" 

"What's your biggest fear?" 

That wasn't at all what Mew anticipated. "Alai?" 

"What are you afraid of?" 

Mew takes a breath. Currently, the upcoming wedding. Seeing his ex for the first time since they broke up. Keeping it a secret from Gulf. Not that he has to tell him. Not that Gulf may even want to know about it. Just that he's purposely not telling him, like he has something to hide. "...lizards?"

________________

_Mew took a few more licks of his ice cream. It didn't make up for the fact he didn't get the modeling gig, and it certainly wouldn't help him stay fit for the next audition, but fuck it, it tasted really good._

_Tigger laughed and placed an arm around his shoulder. "Mew, my boy, it wasn't meant to be." He shook his head and offered some of his ice cream. Mew didn't hesitate in taking a bite. "Eat up, kiddo. You'll have plenty of work soon."_

_Fasai shook her head and wiped the corner of Mew's mouth. "Who would want to be a model for bullion cubes, anyway?"_

_He shrugged and took another lick. It was a ridiculous ad, but it would have paid nicely. There was an anime figure he really wanted to buy. He smiled at his friends. "Yeah. Next time."_

_Tigger helped himself to Fasai's ice cream before she could swat him away. "Ooh! Almost got me! I love you, Fasai. Nooooo!" He shrieked and ran away from her. "Mew, help! She's after me!" Fasai hadn't even moved._

_"Are you five?" She asked him._

_He came running back, slurping at his ice cream. "Why don't you ever chase me na?" He pouted at her "You never want to play with me."_

_"Do you ever stop talking?"_

_Mew laughed at his friends. He needed this after the day he had. He hadn't even told them everything yet, though it was only a matter of time before…_

_"Mew, where's Kimmy?"_

_And there it was. He sighed and shoved more ice cream in his mouth. Tigger winced and offered more of his, which Mew gladly accepted. "We broke up," he said through a mouthful._

_Fasai shook her head. "She cheated on you?"_

_"No, nothing like that." He bit into his cone. "Just didn't work out. No spark."_

_Tigger tsked. "Sorry, kiddo. She was cute, too." He made a long, dreamlike sigh._

_He was right, though. Kimmy was adorable with her pixie cut and Cupid's bow lips. She had deep dimples whenever she smiled, which was often, and a voice that sounded like a bell. Nalak nalak. And yet he felt nothing between them. Maybe cute girls just weren't for him. Maybe he still needed a little bite in them. A little brat, too._

_Fasai's laugh was bitter. "Maybe I should try cute girls."_

_Tigger feigned surprise. "You had a breakup, too?" He looked at Mew with his mouth open in fake shock. "But Ring was so nice!"_

_Mew all but choked on his cone. Tigger's sarcasm would kill him one day. "Cut it out." He held Fasai's hand. "Same old, same old?"_

_She nodded. "Things were great until she found out I have flaws-"_

_"And claws," added Tigger._

_She glared at him. "Thanks. And vulnerabilities and insecurities… She put me on a pedestal and acted like I betrayed her when I turned out to be human. So yeah, same old, same old." It was her curse._

_Tigger wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, radiant Fasai. You gotta stop dating people who worship you. They want a goddess, not a partner." He snickered. "And maybe lay off assholes like Ring. She was a piece of work."_

_Mew helped himself to Tigger's cone. He wasn't eating it, after all. "What about you?"_

_He struck a cheesy pose. "What about me? Can't let a woman tie me down. I don't want to end up like you two lovesick chumps." He laughed and snatched his ice cream back from Mew, leaving him pouting. "Mark my words, I'll be the last of us to get married."_

___________________

**Thursday morning:**

"Khun Phi khrab, I have a question." 

"I must have done something bad in a past life." 

"Shh, I'm going to ask now. What's something your parents don't know about you?" 

Honestly, where does his nong get these questions? "Um...I paid a lot more for Chopper than what I told my mom?"

"No, that's lame. Tell me something secret." His tone is playful, but there's an edge to it that makes Mew wonder if Gulf is looking for something.

"Why is Yai Nong so curious all of a sudden?" 

Gulf doesn't hesitate. "Because when I look into Khun Phi's eyes, I see mystery. But I want to see you." 

Mew tenses. He's reminded of what Gulf said to him on Samet Island, _"Khun Phi has many sides to him like the phases of the moon. Bright and glowing, all the way to the dark side that nobody sees. But even when down to a small crescent, there's still light in the darkness."_ Mysterious, shifting, and full of light. Is this how Gulf sees him? And what if, in the end, Gulf doesn't like what he sees? 

Mew scratches his head. "Let me think on it and get back to you, okay na?" 

Gulf huffs and looks out the window. "Khrab."

_______________

_Mew looked at his date across the table. He was so lovely. Round, playful eyes and pouty lips curved in a smile. There was just enough mischief in his expression that told him he was in for an adventure._

_"Took you long enough to ask me out," he teased._

_Mew's smile was bashful. "I wasn't sure you felt the same."_

_"I'll have to work on my flirting, then."_

_"You could have asked me out, you know."_

_He giggled and looked around the restaurant. "Ah, but I liked making Phi squirm." He looked back at him with flashing eyes that pierced him right in the gut._

_They kissed that night in the darkness of his car, parked around the block from his condo. His date's lips were soft and yielding at first, steadily growing forceful. Come upstairs, he said. And the rest of the evening was a blur._

It's Run who shakes his arm to wake him. "P'Mew?" 

"Alai na?"

"I wasn't sure if I should wake you. It didn't sound like a nightmare." 

He rubs his eyes and groans. "But?" 

"But you said _his_ name." 

"Thought so." He gets up and washes his face in the bathroom. The cool water shocks the nostalgia out of his system. Not that he ever wants to return to that time. But the feeling of being wanted, of having those innocent first kisses, and the longing for such simplistic love throbs in his chest like a second heart. And while he can't deny that what he feels for Gulf is infinitely stronger and deeper, it's by no means simple. He avoids looking at his reflection. He doesn't want to see a man tortured by a blossoming love and haunted by a withered one. What a sad image that would be. 

________________

**Friday evening:**

"Khun Phi khrab-" 

"No."

"But you don't even know-" 

Mew turns up the music. It's kpop for the rest of the drive. 

________________

_Mew tried to smooth his cowlick. Damn thing wouldn't stay down. It was the opposite problem he was having with his cock. Six months of dating and he was still so fucking horny all the time. His boyfriend was insatiable. That's why he had a cowlick in the first place. A quickie, he said. He should have known by now they were never quick._

_Tigger waved them over when they entered the restaurant. Fasai glanced up and made no change in her expression._

_"She still doesn't like me," said his boyfriend._

_"That's just her face," Mew assured him._

_"You're a terrible liar."_

_Maybe it was the cowlick. Maybe it was his boyfriend's comment. Maybe it was the spicy food or the way Fasai looked at them, but the evening felt off. Was it true? Did she not like his boyfriend?_

_"I'll be back," he said, standing from the table. "Restroom."_

_He heard footsteps as he reached for the door handle. Fasai stood in the little hallway, her arms crossed and her head tilted._

_"So, he's the one?"_

_Mew ran a hand through his hair. "I really said that, huh?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "Twice. Oh, Mew." She shook her head. "Not this one, my darling."_

_A flicker of the old anger flashed through him. He remembered how keenly he could resent her unabashed and unsolicited opinions. "That's not your call to make."_

_She shrugged, looking as haughty as ever. "We promised to look out for each other, remember? You, me, and Tigger."_

_The anger seethed in his belly. This wasn't her looking out for him. This was her trying to control things again. Who was she to judge his relationship? Her boyfriend wasn't even here tonight, the corporate jerk. Whatever happened to her plan of dating cute girls? "You haven't even given him a chance."_

_She scoffed and looked away. "I don't have to."_

_He couldn't help the fist he was making, trying to squeeze the anger out of his system. How dare she. He was finally happy again. Couldn't she see that? "Jealous?" He asked. "Just because my boyfriend actually spends time with me?"_

_He saw it then, the rage that lived deep inside her. The fire that always burned beneath her cool surface, just waiting for provocation. The twist of her lips showed her struggle to bite her tongue. Finally, she looked down and sighed._

_"I don't like the way he looks at you, Mew."_

_Alai wa? He squinted at her as his mouth fell open. "What are you talking about? He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone else."_

_Fasai leveled her gaze, a glimmer of pain in her fierce eyes. "My point exactly."_

_______________________

**Saturday morning:**

Mew checks his scruff in the mirror. He had to skip shaving this morning because he got up late. He gets out to greet Gulf as always, opening the door for him, and buckling his bag in the back seat. His co-star is quiet. Maybe he didn't eat breakfast. Maybe it's Grumpy Gulf this morning. Except he doesn't look grumpy at all. He looks sad. Mew wants to kick himself. It's probably because of last night, when he snapped at him and refused to hear his question. He didn't mean to shut Gulf out. He just can't let anything else in.

He looks at his nong at the stoplight. He's hugging himself and he turns the aircon away from him. Shia. He's definitely fucked things up. Gulf almost never gets cold. It's only when they don't get along, it seems, which is in itself a weird reaction. Most people get hot from anger or conflict. Gulf goes the opposite way, as if someone's taken the warmth away from him. As if… Shia. Mew's an idiot. 

He reaches for Gulf's hand at the next stoplight. It's practically frozen. "Okay na." 

His junior looks up, his chestnut lips parted. "Khrab?" 

"What's your question?" 

Gulf squeezes his hand. "How many times have you been in love?" 

Mew exhales loudly. It feels like he's just been punched in the gut. "Wow. Couldn't save that for the evening question?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "It couldn't wait." He remembers there won't be an evening question today. But what does he mean it couldn’t wait? 

He sneaks a glance at him. "Why?" Why this question?

"Because I still see mystery." 

This isn't what Mew expected, although he probably should have. It goes beyond the kinds of questions friends would ask each other. But he also wants to know what he's up against. "How many times for you?" 

Gulf looks down at the floor mat. He's silent for a long time. "I asked you first," he says.

Mew pulls his hand back to merge onto the motorway. Gulf shoves his hand under his leg, eliminating any chance of holding it again. 

Mew nods. "Okay na. How many times have I been in love?" 

"Khrab." 

"Too many, I'd say." His laugh has a bitterness to it. "Or maybe not enough."

"Not enough?" 

His chest grows heavy. He clenches his jaw and draws his brows together. He doesn't want to have this conversation right now. "Not enough to learn my lesson," he says, patting Gulf on the leg. "No more questions today na?"

Gulf nods. "No more today, Khun Phi."

__________________

Mew keeps his head down as people wait for the wedding ceremony to begin. Pee and Fasai are on either side of him, leaning forward to talk to each other. _Did you see that dress? Gorgeous. And the shoes were divine. Would you look at that suit? I think it was Armani._ Mew tries to focus on their fashion commentary, but the knowledge that his ex is somewhere in the same room keeps fighting its way to the forefront of his thoughts. He bounces his leg, unable to stop his nervousness. Why is he still letting it get to him? Why does he still care? 

He focuses on the ceremony as best he can. Tigger looks dashing in his tux. He flashes a mischievous smile at his bride as she walks down the aisle. Mew remembers that look. He saw it the first time Tigger met Plum. It must have been what Fasai meant that night when she said she didn't like the way his ex looked at him. It was the way he looked at everyone else. But it shouldn't have been. It should have been special, like the way Tigger looks at Plum. He understands it now. 

They rise from their seats and approach the couple to pour water over their hands for the rod nam sang ceremony. Mew keeps his head down in line, focusing only on the sound of the people laughing and chatting. The urge to look for his ex eats away at him, thinking that it will alleviate the tension and anticipation. To get it over with already. But he knows it will only make things worse.

__________________

Fasai hands him a glass of whiskey during cocktail hour. He drinks it faster than he ought to, and Pee brings him a small plate of hors d'oeuvres. 

"This is ridiculous," says Mew. "You should be socializing and having fun instead of babysitting me." 

Pee looks around and shivers. "Don't worry, I already looked around. All the hot men are straight." 

"Ouch." Mild walks up and helps himself to Mew's plate. "I'm not hot?"

"You look twelve," says Pee, knocking back the rest of his drink. 

Fasai chuckles and straightens the lapels of Mild's jacket. "Shush. Mild, you look gorgeous. Did you bring anyone?"

He gestures vaguely behind him. Aa and Run raise their glasses in greeting. "Brought the Co-Captain and, uh… the pirate." He winks at Fasai.

"Pirate?" Mew feels he's missed something. 

"You know, because of his birds. Like a parrot on the shoulder…" Mild shakes his head. "Forget it, forget it. It's because he's after my booty." 

Pee giggles. "That's more like it, baby. Uh, Fasai, why didn't you bring the little darling? It's not a Thai wedding unless you bring uninvited guests."

She swats at his arm. "Eye has a family event this evening. Besides, I wouldn't be able to focus if she were here."

"Ooooiiiiyyyy!" Mild wags a finger at her. "Are you two…?" He wiggles his eyebrows. 

"Are you and Aa….?" 

He retracts his finger. "I see. Same boat." 

"You mean ship," Mew corrects. 

"Oh, look, he made a joke." Pee pats his arm. "That's a good boy." 

___________________

Mew sneaks off to the bathroom to check his phone. Nothing from Gulf. Not that he expected anything. He thinks about texting him himself. But what? I miss you? I'm thinking of you? I'm hiding from my ex at a wedding and I wish I had brought you tonight and shown you off? 

The door opens and for a second, his heart stops. He's been so jumpy, thinking that every man around the corner will be _him._ But the man at the door is not his ex, and Mew leaves to rejoin his friends. 

"Mew." 

He freezes in the little hallway outside the restrooms. He can see the picture of the layout in his head, all the exits and doors he could take. Because he knows that voice, and the man around the corner really is his ex. 

Mew turns around to face him. He hasn't changed at all. Same round eyes, same full lips, and same arrogant smile. It's been months, but seeing him feels like being in one of his dreams. A moment captured from the past, unchanging and unrelenting.

"Hi." Because he doesn't know what else to say. The moment he's been dreading is here at last, and it doesn't feel significant. Only strange. Only hollow. 

His ex's smile grows wider. "You look good. Did you lose weight?" 

He means it as a compliment, but it stings nonetheless. He can already see Gulf's insulted face if he ever heard him. "Trying to gain it back," he answers. 

He shifts uncomfortably. He's wearing the tie Mew bought him, the one that matches his own. His stomach churns, realizing they look like a couple in coordinating outfits. They're even wearing the same shoes. 

"Can we talk this evening?" 

Mew's mouth falls open. Months ago, he would have jumped to say yes. He closes his eyes. "What could you possibly have to say to me?" When he opens them, his ex has taken a step closer. 

He looks at Mew with his playful, round eyes. Eyes that used to make his heart race and his stomach flutter. There's a hint of sadness behind their lustre. "Come find me after dinner." 

Mew looks away. It's still hard to believe he's real, that's he's standing right in front of him. It feels like an out of body experience and he's watching himself talk to him. Like it's a series, and any moment someone will call cut. The life he shared with him feels like a fiction. 

"I have to go," he says. He turns away from him and walks off. He knows they'll be at the same table, but for now he just wants some distance between them. He knows Pee and Fasai will sit on either side of him, but it's the seat across that has him worried now. 

He runs into Aa as he enters the dining hall.

"P'Mew!" He looks into the hallway, but his ex is already in the bathroom. "I thought I saw-"

"I already saw him." Mew pats his arm. "Come on, let's talk about you and Mild na…"

"Uh…" 

_________________

"I'm married!" Shouts Tigger. He wraps his arm around Mew and toussels his hair. "Can you believe it, kiddo?" He kisses Fasai on the forehead. 

"Congratulations," she says, pulling him down for a hug. 

Tigger laughs and squats so that he's level with them. "It means so much to have you two here. You're like family, except at a better table!" He nudges them with his elbow. "Oh, well… except for, you know. I'm sorry, Mew." 

"It's okay, it's okay." He pats his cheek. "It's your big day! Didn't you bet that you'd be the last of us to get married na?" 

He throws his head back and laughs. "Yeah, well…" he stands and gestures to his wife at the other end of the table. "I found someone who made me want to be a better version of myself, and hell, I couldn't sit around and wait for you two slowpokes to find spouses. I'd lose that bet every day if it means I get to spend those days with her." 

Mew looks at Plum. She reminds him so much of her cousin. Same round and playful eyes, same mischievous personality. Something in her smile that promises adventure. She rests her hand on _his_ shoulder and blows a kiss at her new husband. Mew can't help but look at his ex directly across from him. Just a peek, but it was enough for him to notice and smile. 

________________

Fasai isn't drunk, per se. She isn't sober, either. She's in that sweet spot between giddy and belligerent. Mew holds her on the dance floor while a slow song plays.

"And then she said, get this, she said… she said, you're not going to believe what she said, New-New!" Fasai shakes her head. "She said… shia, I forgot…" 

Mew laughs and gives her a twirl. "You're right- I can't believe it." 

She brushes his cheek with her hand. "How are you, my beautiful mess? Do you want more wine?" 

"I think you've had enough for both of us."

She pinches his face. "Get on my level, Suppasit." She lets go and giggles. "Did I just say that? Who was that?" 

Correction: Fasai is drunk. 

He pats her waist where he's holding her. "How about we get more cake?" 

She nods. "I do like cake." 

"Ahem." 

Mew and Fasai turn to see _him._ He stands with his hand outstretched, eyes sparkling as always. "May I cut in?" 

Fasai's expression hardens in an instant. "No takesies backsies," she snarls. She catches herself and looks at Mew. "Who said that? Was that me? Am I drunk?" 

He nods at her. "It's okay, Fasai."

She twists out of his arms. "No, it's not." She points a finger at _him._ "No cutting. You've done enough damage."

He holds up his hands. "I just want to talk." 

"You've had months to do that," she says. "You didn't want to talk when Mew lost 7 kg? Or when he couldn't sleep?" 

Mew touches her shoulder. "Fasai…" He knows all too well how capable she is of making a scene. "Today is about Tigger, remember?" 

She pulls away from his touch and glares at _him._ "You were right, you know. I never did like you. Come, on Mew." She pulls on his hand. 

Mew follows her, but his ex grabs the other one. 

"Five minutes," he pleads. His eyes are imploring. He remembers those eyes so well. "And I won't bother you again after that." 

Mew squeezes Fasai's fingers. "Just five minutes," he tells her. "You can watch us from the table and time it." 

She growls and pokes _him_ in the chest. "If you hurt him again, don't think I won't hit you just because you're a little boy." She pulls out her phone as she returns to the table. She's already running her mouth at Pee, who holds a hand up to his mouth. 

Mew looks at the dancing couples around them and holds out his arms. His ex smiles and closes the distance, letting Mew lead. The scent of him swirls around him, pulling Mew back to his memories. Back to a time when that scent clung to his clothing and his bedsheets and his own bare skin. Back when he longed to breathe it in and bask in it forever. The scent of the person he loved so much it hurt. 

"I wanted to say I'm sorry." He looks up with those innocent eyes, made all the more pleading from the height difference. "I thought about calling you so many times." 

"But you didn't." Mew's voice sounds more bitter than he intended. 

"I'm surprised you didn't bring your boyfriend this evening.”. 

"Alai? What are you talking about?"

"Oh?" His lips form into a cheeky smile. "I see all sorts of things on social media about you and… him _._ Your co-star."

Mew stiffens. "We're not going to talk about him. What the hell do you want?" 

"I miss you, Phi." His expression becomes earnest. "That's what I wanted to tell you. I regret leaving you na. I was a fucking idiot, okay? _I miss you."_ His eyes are pink and watery. 

Mew stares in horror. This isn't what was supposed to happen. And if it was, it should have happened months ago when all he wanted was to hear those words. He loosens his grip on him. 

"I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "I don't feel the same." 

"Because of him?" 

"Because of you," he snaps. Fire builds in the pit of his stomach. "I told you not to talk about him. I would have loved you forever, but you left me."

The first tear rolls down _his_ cheek. "I'll do anything to win you back." He tugs on Mew's sleeve. "Don't we deserve another chance? If you would have loved me forever, love me now."

The words resound in his head and echo in his chest. _If you would have loved me forever, love me now._ But he can't anymore. The love is spent, and there's no bringing it back. 

He pulls his arm away. "You have no idea how hurt I was." 

He steps closer, looking into Mew's eyes. "I still love you." The tears flow freely now, but he doesn't bother to wipe them. "Did you forget how much we loved each other? Doesn't that mean anything? People in love should forgive each other and do whatever it takes to reconcile." 

The heaviness behind Mew's eyes threatens to give way to tears. "We're not in love anymore." It's the reality he's had to face every day for months.

He smiles at him. "We both know that's not true. We shared two years together. You don't get over something like that so quickly." 

"Trust me, I know."

"I was so wrong, Mew." He holds his hand. It still fits the same. It still feels the same. "If I hadn't been such a fool, we'd still be together. Because you know you'll never stop loving me." 

Mew grits his teeth. How many times had he said such things? That he would always love him no matter what? And now he's coming to collect on those promises. "I have to go."

His ex tugs one more time. "Tomorrow at noon. Our favorite coffee shop. If there's any part of you that still loves me, meet me there." 

Mew pulls his hand back. He takes one last look at his ex, at the man he wanted to spend his life with, and turns away from him. The dance floor is more crowded now, and he can't fight his way through it. It feels like he's walking in sand, struggling to gain ground, but his strength is leaving him. The words fill his mind to the brim.

_I miss you. I still love you._

An arm reaches into the sea of people and drags him out. "What the fuck was that?" Asks Fasai. 

He takes a seat at the table, grabbing the first drink he sees. "He wants to get back together." The champagne bubbles agitate his nose as he downs the whole flute. He reaches for a glass of whiskey and chugs it. 

"Whoa, taro bun!" Pee grabs the glass from him. He coughs and accepts the water that Fasai offers. 

"Let's not turn to alcohol," she says, moving away the rest of the drinks. 

He sighs and picks up a plate of cake. "He wants to have coffee tomorrow."

"What?" 

He fills them in as he makes his way through all the cake at the table. 

___________________

_Mew woke to the sound of mumbled words. He looked over at the placid face of his lover, who kept saying, "spicy noodles" in his sleep. He was so cute when he did this._

_He stirred and opened his eyes. "I could feel you looking at me."_

_Mew chuckled and brushed the hair from his face. "That's because every part of me wants to touch you, even my gaze."_

_"You're so corny."_

_He nuzzled into the side of his neck, pressing soft kisses. "Can I make love to you?"_

_His boyfriend squirmed. "I don't like it in the morning… it's too bright and I haven't had coffee yet."_

_Mew nodded and pulled him close. "Okay. Cuddle, then?"_

_"Okay."_

"Rice cake?" Pee rubs his arm. "Rice cake, wake up, darling." 

Mew groans and looks at his senior. "Alai na, Phi?" 

"I wasn't sure if you were dreaming about _him_ , but it sounded nostalgic." 

He yawns and runs a hand through his hair. "I was. Thanks." He looks at his phone. 10:48 am. No messages from Gulf. 

"You're not seriously thinking of going, right?" 

He shakes his head. "I'm not Tharn. Of course I'm not going." He gets out of bed and stretches. 

"You're going to stand up that jerk?" 

He laughs and grabs his towel. "I'm not vindictive, Pee. I asked Mild to go and explain for me. Gave him some cash, too, to buy them whatever they want."

"Such a gentleman." 

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt." 

________________________

Fasai returns with breakfast from the food cart. The bags under her eyes tell him exactly what he needs to know about her condition. 

"Don't let me drink again," she says, handing him a pork skewer. 

"Don't let me eat that much cake." 

Pee walks by and rolls his eyes. "Don't let me hit on cute waiters." 

Fasai takes a sip of her coffee. "Did I really say _no takesies backsies?"_

"You said a lot of things." 

She lays her head on the kitchen table. "How did things end? Did you kick that bastard to the curb?" 

Pee makes an indignant noise. "He sent his ambassador." 

"Poor Mild." She takes another long sip of coffee. "How do you feel, New-New?" 

He shrugs. "Fine. I don't feel anything for him anymore. Everything is kind of numb."

"But…?" Pee pats his hand.

"But." Mew sighs. "That's the problem. I told him I would love him forever, and that nothing would change that. I told him I loved him with all my heart. And I meant it when I said it."

"It's okay to stop loving someone who's hurt you," says Fasai. 

"It hasn't even been a year," he tells her. "And yet I'm so ready to move on from the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? You don't think that says something? If I truly loved him, I would forgive him and take him back." 

"Are you saying…?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I don't want to get back together with him, but that's what scares me. If I didn't love him enough to take him back, that means I'm no better than him for not loving me enough to work things out." 

Fasai rubs his arm. "All it means is you two weren't meant to be together."

He stands from the table. "It means I can't trust my own feelings. I have to go. You two can stay as long as you want." 

_________________

He finds his mother in the backyard, sitting under an umbrella while the family dogs, Milo and Fondue, play in the sun. Her face lights up as he deposits Chopper into her lap.

"Sawadee-khrab, Mama." He kisses her cheek.

"Sawadee-kha, luk chai." _My son._ "Come sit with me na."

He pulls up a chair and slumps down. "Tigger's wedding was last night."

She reaches for his hand. "That boy wanted you back, didn't he?" She sighs when she sees him nod. "And when you said no, you realized your love for him wasn't as strong as you thought."

The tears well up in his eyes and he lays his head on her shoulder. "How do you know everything? I broke my promise, Mama."

She shushes him and soothes his hair. "You didn't break anything, luk chai. I know you. The love you had for him was real, and it would have lasted for eternity."

"But-"

"But when he left you, you didn't rescind your love. It died. True love can't live when one person no longer cares for it. You can't fulfil your promise any more than you can bring back the dead." She wipes at the tears flowing down his cheek. "Do you see?" 

"He's trying to resurrect it." 

She sighs and wraps her arm around him. "There's no bringing back what has died. If you got back together, it would be a new love, and you never promised him that."

He sits up and looks at her. He's always known that his mother is the most intelligent woman in the world. "So, what your saying is…"

She laughs and ruffles his hair. "What I'm saying is that you don't owe him shit." 

"Mae!" _Mom!_

"What? You think you got your sass from your father?"

He shakes his head. He knows exactly who he takes after.

___________________

Mew flashes his lights when he sees Gulf approach the parking lot. He gets out to greet him and stops in his tracks. It feels like weeks since he's seen him. Gulf stands there with his bare face and retainer, his hair fluffy and losing its Type-ness. Gulf with his curious eyes and chestnut lips. Mew wants to embrace him and inhale the crisp shampoo smell of him. He wants to feel him in his arms and hold him until all the worries and doubts go away. 

"Did you have a good weekend?" Gulf asks. 

He takes his bag and opens the door for him. "It's better now."

They drive in silence. Mew doesn't know what to say. He still feels like he's keeping a secret from Gulf, but he can't bear to tell him everything that's happened. It's too much to unpack. 

"You're quiet," he says. 

Gulf shrugs. "I'm a quiet person."

"Not with me you aren't."

"Hmph. Khun Phi thinks he's special?" His voice is teasing.

Mew smiles. How he's missed their banter. "There's a moon shell on my night stand that says so." 

Gulf stares at him. After a second, he shakes his head. "Not on your bookshelf next to P'Pee's heart?"

Mew almost forgot about that. He laughs in spite of himself. "That's for decoration. But the shell- that's just for me." 

"Khrab." He looks out the window." Khun Phi khrab?" 

Mew smiles. "There it is." 

"You're the one who started it. I was being quiet, remember?" 

"Okay okay. What question does Yai Nong have for me today?" 

"Would you rather have fame, money, or true love?" 

Mew laughs again, but not genuinely. "Where does Yai Nong get these questions, BuzzFeed?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "Me. I want to know."

"You want to solve the mystery?"

"I want to know Khun Phi better than anyone." 

Mew tenses. Why do such words make his heart ache? Does Gulf know what it is he's asking for? He gives him a fake laugh. "So, if I say fame, I'm vain. If I say money, I'm greedy. And if I say true love, I'm a fool." 

Gulf startles. "Why a fool?" 

A bitter laugh this time. "Because I keep choosing it and I keep regretting it. But I choose it again every time."

Gulf squirms around in his seat. "Then none of them were true love."

He thinks about what his mother said. That true love can't live when one person no longer cares for it. "Ah, but that's why I'm a fool." He stops at a red light and looks at him. "I'm a fool, because I haven't learned my lesson."

"Which is what?" 

"That true love doesn't exist." He gives him a sad smile. "I'd warn you, but perhaps Yai Nong wants to get better at crying?" 

Gulf shrugs. "Then I win either way. I can improve my acting, or I can find true love." 

Mew laughs, a somewhat real laugh this time. "I'll see you at the Oscars. Or perhaps you'll have both one day." 

"Yes, and he'll be my date at the Oscars." 

Shia. Did Gulf just say… he?

"She," Gulf corrects. "I meant she, of course. All this arguing is making my brain hurt." He turns to face the window, resting his head against the glass. 

Mew restrains the heavy sigh that wants to escape him. He doesn't really believe that Gulf is straight anymore. He knows better than that. But the fact that Gulf is still pretending speaks volumes. 

Neither of them say anything for the rest of the drive.

_______________

_Gulf's legs wrapped around Mew's torso as his arms found their way around his neck. The weight felt familiar and comforting, despite the strain on his muscles. With a grunt, he pushed himself upward._

_People laughed and teased as Mew carried Gulf on his back. The little shit even made beep beep noises through the hallway toward the set. No way in hell was Mew going to let that ankle anywhere near the ground before he had to kiss it._

_"You okay na, Phi?" Gulf whispered in his ear._

_Mew laughed and hoisted him higher on his back. "You weigh nothing," he said. It wasn't quite true, but he'd carry him all day if it meant keeping Gulf's arms around his neck._

_He dropped him onto Type's bed, hearing the plastic sound of the hard mattress catch his fall. Gulf landed with a dull thud and a soft groan._

_His junior raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, it wasn't my worst experience riding a man..."_

_Mew stumbled and fell onto the bed. "Alai wa?"_

_Gulf laughed and pointed at him. "Lo len, lo len!"_ Just kidding, just kidding.

_Mew nodded, willing his heart to stop pounding. His mind flashed back to that day on video call, when Gulf straddled his own pillow and pretended to ride it like Type riding Tharn._

_Gulf giggled and poked his chest, right above his heart. "Khun Phi is the only man I ever want to ride." He laughed so hard at his own joke that he shook the bed._

_Mew growled and went to tickle him, remembering too late that Gulf had no ticklish spots at all. Shia. He froze on top of his co-star, gripping his waist with no effect whatsoever._

_Gulf continued to laugh. "Forgot, didn't you?" He pulled Mew down on top of him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "It's okay, Phi. Come on. Ma ma ma."_ Come, come, come _._

_Mew gave in, savoring the embrace from his nong, the scent of his shampoo, and the steady beat of his heart against his ear. Gulf's heart, beating in time with his own. He sighed against his chest, wanting to stay there forever._

_"Are you okay kissing my ankle, Khun Phi?"_

_Mew hummed his agreement into Gulf's shirt. "I wouldn't go through all of this trouble if it wasn't okay."_

_"I know…" he bounced his fist on Mew's back. "I just want to check."_

_Mew raised his head to look at him. "If kissing Type's ankle is Tharn's way of showing that he accepts every part of him from his head to his toes, then acting it out is my way of showing I'll do my best to be your Tharn."_

_Gulf's ears flushed red as he looked away, his chestnut lips curling into a smile. "Khrab. Then I'll do my best to be your Type."_

Mild shakes his arm to wake him up. "Phi…"

Mew squeezes the pillow in his arms. "Gulf," he murmurs. 

"Don't make it weird na," says Mild, laughing softly. "It's me. Best boy. Captain. And apparently, ambassador."

"No, I dreamt about Gulf." 

"Oh." Mild pats his arm. "That's new. I'll let you get back to sleep, then." 

____________________

**Monday morning:**

Mew grips his steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. After the shit weekend he had and the dream from last night, he's tired of keeping so many things from Gulf.

"Khun Phi khrab? Who's your favorite member of Black-"

"Twice." 

"...pink." Gulf pauses. "Wa ngi na?" _What did you say?_

Mew didn't mean to cut him off, but now he has to finish what he started. "I've had my heart broken a few times, but I've only been in love twice." 

Once with Fasai, and once with his ex. He doesn't count Gulf. He doesn't know for sure if he's in love with him, but he might be. 

Gulf is quiet for a minute. "Um, my favorite is Lisa…"

Mew laughs, softly at first, then steadily louder. So be it. Maybe Monday morning is the wrong time to get too serious. He reaches over and pinches Gulf's stomach. "What will I do with my Yai Nong?" 

"Whatever you want."

For fuck's sake. Gulf is going to kill him for sure. 

___________________

Type isn't drunk, per se. He isn't sober, either. He's in that sweet spot between sleepy and affectionate. He asks- demands, rather, for Tharn to hug him. 

"You… are drunk." 

"I'm not drunk."

"I guess what people say is true. Drunk people never admit they're drunk." 

Type chuckles. His smile is soft. "Jerk," he says. Tharn knows by now that he means it lovingly. 

"So… you forgive me, right?" 

"No." 

Tharn's heart drops to his stomach. 

"Not until you hug me." 

He can't keep himself upright any longer. Not after that momentary shock. He collapses onto Type's chest. "You're such a tease." He savors the warm, squishy body beneath him. Type rubs his arms, and it still shocks him how tender his boyfriend can actually be. Mew marvels at it, too. He remembers all too well when Gulf couldn't caress him. How clumsily he would touch him, and now it all feels so gentle.

He leans in for a kiss, soft and loving. "Forgive me."

"If there's a next time, I'm going to kill you." And he knows it's true. 

"I promise," he says. 

The kiss feels different this time. They made each kiss as Tharn and Type distinct to show the development of their relationship. But the kiss between them as Mew and Gulf is what's different. It's more trusting and intimate. The way Gulf makes no pretense of keeping his mouth closed, the way his tongue reaches out for his, expectant in their touch. They kiss like lovers who know each other inside and out. They kiss like two people in love. 

P'Tee doesn't even call cut. He doesn't tell them to mind the rating. Maybe he sees something in the kiss, they way Mew can feel it. He wonders if Gulf does, too. He wonders if everything they've shared over the past months have affected him the same way. 

______________

They sit in the car, in the middle of traffic. The tension is killing him. He feels the seconds slip by as missed opportunities to get to know Gulf better. 

"Khun Phi kh-"

"Yai Nong khrab?" Again, he doesn't mean to cut him off. 

Gulf looks at him with big eyes. "Khrab?"

He asks the first thing he can think of. "Would you rather lose reading or speaking?" 

His junior grins at him. He realizes what he's doing. "Reading. I'll just have Khun Phi read to me."

Mew can't help but smile. Does this mean Gulf intends for him to stick around? "Fame, money, or true love?" 

Gulf doesn't hesitate. "True love. Every time until I find it." 

Bold words for someone who isn't romantic. Maybe his assessment of him was inaccurate. He shakes his head, but his smile doesn't fade. "What do you fear the most?" 

Gulf's ears turn pink and then red. He visibly tenses before speaking. "Spending the rest of my life alone with nobody to love. Or for the people I love to stop loving me back." 

The words sting his heart and hiis mind goes blank. Slowly, Gulf's words fill the void, resounding in the depths of his consciousness. Gulf fears the same thing he does, the answer he was too afraid to give. 

He braces himself before asking the next question. "How many times have you been in love?" 

Gulf looks down and Mew can't tell what he's feeling. "I've never been in love." His voice is so small, but assertive nonetheless. As if daring Mew to patronize him. 

It's a few seconds before he speaks again. There's only one question left. "What's something your parents don't know about you?" 

Gulf squeezes his hands into fists. Has he gone too far? Is he making him uncomfortable? He's about to retract his question when Gulf speaks up. "That I've never been in love before," he says. He looks at Mew, eyes bold and fierce the way only Gulf can look at him. "But I might be." 

Silence. 

Where does he go from here? Too many questions remain unasked. How does he respond to something like that without rejecting Gulf's confession, if that's even what it is? It's all too fast. If it's meant to be, shouldn't it feel more natural than this? The way their other interactions have been? Maybe that's where they need to stay for now. Maybe he ought to play things safe. 

Mew sighs and gives him a smile. "My favorite is Jennie." 

Gulf exhales the breath he was holding. "Jennie's a brat." 

He laughs and rubs his tummy. "I like brats."


	34. Him

_Mew tugged on the ratty ear of the stuffed bear. Chopper growled and shook his head to tear it loose from Mew's grip. Such a tiny, ferocious little beast. He giggled at his baby's futile attempt at tug of war. The little thing was losing ground. Mew took pity on him and let go of it._

_"Khun Phi?" Gulf's voice came through the speaker phone._

_"Hmmm?"_

_"Ready na?" He sounded soft and ducky, the way Mew loved._

_"Shai."_

_Gulf cleared his throat. "Tharn reached around Type's firm ass…"_

_Mew coughed, causing his junior to stop speaking. Gulf whined on the other end of the line. "Are you still shy na, Phi? We've already read through the book before. You know what's coming."_

_Mew winced. "Yes, but… why do you always volunteer to read the dirty parts?"_

_More laughter on the other end. "Why? Do you want to? Does Phi think he can say such filthy things?" The hint of teasing in Gulf's voice was enough to flip the switch inside Mew._

_"Does Yai Nong think I'm such a prude?"_

_Gulf snorted. "I've seen your love scenes. I know you can be a naughty boy."_

_God, Gulf was going to drive him crazy. "It doesn't mean I've ever read smut out loud."_

_"Just in your head?"_

_"Obviously." Shia. Did he just admit to that?_

_Gulf's laugh filled the room. "Any recommendations?"_

_Fuck. How did the conversation even get to this point? He squirmed in his seat. "Do you have any?"_

_Gulf stopped laughing. "Hm, depends. What is Phi into?"_

_"Are you being serious?"_

_He could almost hear Gulf nodding his slow, exaggerated nod. "I'm very good at research."_

_"I would be afraid to see your search history."_

_"Yeah…" Gulf's voice trailed off. "Not all porn is created equal."_

_Mew shifted into a more comfortable position. "What's the weirdest thing you've come across in your extensive journey through the gay side of pornography?"_

_The mischievous laugh from his co-star made the hair on his neck prickle. "Apparently armpit licking is a thing."_

_"Why?" Mew could hear the whine in his own voice. His sense of cleanliness was insulted at the mere thought of it._

_"And feet, of course. Obviously not Thai people."_

_"Obviously."_

_"Tickling is fascinating to me," he mused. "Phi knows I'm not ticklish, but it doesn't seem pleasant. How could it possibly be a turn on?"_

_Mew shivered at the idea. He'd been accidentally tickled in bed before, and the sensation was more or less interesting. He gripped the phone tighter. "What's… been surprisingly… good?"_

_He could definitely hear the smirk in Gulf's chuckle. "Are you trying to find out what I'm into?"_

_"Is it working?"_

_"Phi!"_

_Now it was Mew's turn to laugh. "Lo len, lol len." Just kidding._

_"Tell me one of yours first."_

_Shia. Mew sat upright. They were really doing this, weren't they? It was bad enough that Gulf wanted to read through the book a second time, but now they were discussing fetishes? "Is this really necessary?"_

_"Come on na, Phi…" Gulf whined so tenderly sometimes he wondered if he was listening to the same person. "Now that Tharn and Type are dating, don't you think we should amp up the intimacy?"_

_"We're about to go to Samet Island to film the longest love scene. We'll be plenty intimate."_

_"Kitchen," said Gulf. His voice was abrupt, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer._

_"Alai na?"_

_"Any room that isn't the bedroom," he elaborated. "I like porn when it's somewhere else. Office, living room, car-"_

_"Car?"_

_"Just as a fantasy, Phi. I'd be too scared to get caught." He laughed and sighed at the end. "I think kitchen is my favorite, though."_

_Mew swallowed hard. This was really happening. And now he knew Gulf liked watching kitchen porn. "Why there?"_

_Gulf giggled. "The counter, of course." As if it were so obvious._

_"I see."_

Mew wakes on his own in an empty bed. He goes out to the living room to find Run on his phone. He looks up when he sees Mew. 

"Oh, morning."

"Did I…?" 

Run rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. Things started sounding a little sexy, so I came out here and slept on the couch." 

Mew laughs. "Why didn't you wake me?" 

The look that Run gives him makes his face flush. "Because you were dreaming about Gulf." 

___________________

"Make way," shouts Mild. "Alpha wife coming through!" He clears a path for Gulf to enter the dressing room. 

Gulf sets down a laundry basket full of slacks. "P'Pee says for everyone to find their pants. He's got an emergency button situation to deal with." 

Saint leans in toward Mew. "Does P'Gulf usually walk around in boxers?" He motions towards a pantsless Gulf in his white school shirt. 

Mew shakes his head and sighs. "Often enough that nobody pays attention anymore." 

"Not even you, P'Mew?" He quirks an eyebrow. 

Mew gives him an unamused stare. "You just got here and you're already shipping?" 

His friend purses his tiny, pouty lips. "Come on na, Phi. I've been shipping since the day you told me about casting, remember?" 

Mew winces, recalling their texts from that day. 

**Mew**

Shia, it's him. 

**Saint**

Yup

**Mew**

0064\. The one my FC predicted.

**Saint**

Absolutely

**Mew**

They said we picked each other. This is crazy.

**Saint**

Crazy 

**Mew**

Mild says it's fate. I don't know what to think. 

**Saint**

Destiny 

**Mew**

You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?

**Saint**

Not a clue 😜. 

**Mew**

N'Gulf was cast as Type

**Saint**

Is he the pretty one?

**Mew**

…

**Saint**

I'll take that as a yes

Mean pulls his pants out of the basket. "Alpha wife, huh?" He giggles. "Some people call Tin the Ice Queen." 

Mild puts his arms around him and Gulf. "I'm just glad you two can get along." 

"We know a powerful ally when we see one," says Gulf, giving Mean a handshake. The room fills with _ooohs_. 

Saint joins them and playfully brushes Mild aside. "Don’t mess with our squad." He smirks and crosses his arms. 

"Wait," says Boat. "Tin's not even a wifey. Just Type and Pete." 

"Yeah, but I'd rather be on the winning team," he says, laughing. "Besides, the queen is the most powerful piece on the chess board." 

Mild smacks Mew on the shoulder. "Your wife is about to start an uprising." 

He beams at Gulf and leans back in his seat. "When will you learn, Mild? Wives have always had all the power." 

Another round of _oooohs_ fills the room. Gulf smirks and tosses a pair of pants at him. "Here, hubby." 

_Ooooiiiiiiiyyy!_

Mew reaches for him and pulls him into his lap. "Thank you, tua-aeng." _Darling._

Gulf laughs and slaps his leg. "I have to get dressed!" 

It's a little later when they're alone that Mew grabs at Gulf's tummy. "Does it ever bother you?" 

"Alai na?"

"The wifey thing. I know I joke around, but sometimes I think... Isn't the whole point of a gay relationship that they're both men?"

Gulf pauses for a moment. "I think it's cute."

Mew nods. He thinks so, too, but he often wonders if he ought to. "Do you worry that it invalidates the idea of same-sex marriage?"

His junior shrugs. "I always thought it was like saying a gay relationship is no different than others. Husband/husband is the same as husband/wife, because love is love and marriage is marriage." 

Mew considers it. Trust Gulf to oversimplify things. "But aren't you insulted that you're being misgendered?" 

Gulf leans in and raises an eyebrow. "It's only insulting if you think being a woman is insulting."

"That's-that's not what I meant." 

"My mother is a wife, and she's pretty badass." Gulf crosses his arms. "I'd be pretty flattered to be compared to her, don't you think?" 

"Of course. You know that's not what I meant, right?" 

Gulf laughs. "I know, Phi. Besides, nobody is calling me a woman. Wife isn't a gender. It's a role, like teacher or doctor or parent."

Mew sighs. He's got a point, kind of. "But do you ever wonder if it diminishes the LGBT identity if you take something gay and format it to fit into a heteronormative framework?" He doesn't mean to sound so erudite, so Suppasit, as his name implies. 

"You mean like gender roles?" 

"For starters." He tries not to get frustrated. How does he expect Gulf to understand things that have taken him years to figure out as being part of the LGBT+ community?

"I think it's a choice," says his co-star. "If we want to say fuck you to heteronormativity, then why can't a man be a wifey if he wants to be? My friend calls her girlfriend hubby sometimes. Isn't that the ultimate triumph over traditional gender roles? To choose for ourselves?"

Mew startles. He's never thought about it that way. He's always viewed these labels as something that was forced onto people, not something they might've chosen for themselves.

"So, then what makes someone a wifey, if not being a woman? How do you define that role without playing into traditional gender roles?" 

Gulf tilts his head in thought. It's so cute when he does that. "I can only think of three things that most cishet wives do that most cishet husbands don't." He counts off on his fingers. "Change their surname, be the receiver in bed, and bear children. And plenty of gay men do two out of three. Everything else- chores, work, childcare- that's up to each couple, isn't it?" 

"Well, a man can't bear children." 

Gulf laughs. "Yeah, but wouldn't it be nice if we could?" He freezes and stares at him. "I mean… you know." 

Mew isn't sure whose face is more red right now, his or Gulf's. "Are you saying… you would… want to…"

Gulf shrugs and looks at the floor. "I mean, I don't want to be a woman. But if men could have children… I just think it would be nice." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Is that stupid?" 

Mew's mouth has gone dry. He doesn't think it's stupid at all, but he knows that plenty of people would. He knows that plenty of people would find it weird for men to have such thoughts. But why? Women speak of the bond between themselves and their baby during pregnancy, and the joy of feeling their baby growing inside them. Is it so weird for men to want such happiness? 

Or for husbands who dote on their pregnant wives, wanting to wait on them hand and foot and take care of them while they take care of their growing baby? Is Mew so weird for wanting that experience, regardless of which gender his partner is? He takes a deep breath. Maybe the idea of a male wife isn't so weird, after all. Maybe Gulf is right. Love is love and marriage is marriage. 

"It's not stupid," he tells him. "I think it's nice." 

"Anyway." Gulf kicks at the air. "I think it's cute being called mia." _Wifey._

_______________

_Mew held Gulf in his arms, rubbing his back as his junior cried into his shoulder. P'Tee had called scene two minutes ago, but his nong was still sobbing. His shirt was now damp with Gulf's tears, and Mew hugged him even closer._

_"Why are you crying?" He asked._

_Gulf pulled back, eyes pink and blurry. "I don't know, Phi." He sniffled. "I got too into it."_

_"Ma ma ma." Come come come. Mew shifted to hold him from behind as Gulf accepted the tissue handed to him by P'Jane. He dabbed at his eyes and Mew rubbed his tummy. "It's okay, Nong." He whispered in his ear. "It happens to all the best actors. It's a good sign."_

_Gulf hiccuped a little and slumped into his embrace. "Thanks na." He tilted his head to look at him. "Didn't I say you would protect me?"_

_"Always."_

Mew feels refreshed, for once. Two nights in a row of good sleep and dreams of Gulf are doing him wonders. Eye sits at the kitchen table, typing away at her laptop. She points to the pot of tea on the counter and gives him a salute when he thanks her. 

"Hope you didn't pull an all-nighter." 

She looks up with bloodshot eyes. "I had a nap." 

He makes her breakfast before he leaves for Tharn's house. 

_______________

Mew waves goodbye to little Maria after their scene. He's always so impressed with her performance as Thanya. She waves back and smiles so wide that his heart nearly bursts. If men have biological clocks, then his is definitely ticking. He'd be lying if he said he's never imagined having a daughter one day. A little girl he can spoil with whatever she wants- books, toy cars, dolls, science kits, Legos, tea parties, basketball- anything.

But definitely books. He can see them walking hand in hand through the public library, picking out books on trains or animals or space. And when she's older, touring her university library while he tries not to cry in public because his little girl is studying engineering like her old man. Or medicine or art or political science. He wants to give her all the opportunities and choices in the world. He sighs and closes his eyes. If he's not married by 35, he just might adopt a kid on his own. Being a father is not something he wants to miss out on. 

He's reminded of his conversation with Gulf, about men wanting to have children. It's been eating away at him. The more he thinks he and Gulf shouldn't be together, the more evidence surfaces that they should. All his worry that they wouldn't want the same things in life. He just hopes their timelines sync up and that his junior doesn't want more time to play the field.

P'Tee calls for a short break, pulling Mew out of his reverie. He shakes his head and goes in search of Gulf. He promised to kidnap him at some point today. He finds him wandering around the house by himself, like a cat scoping out the terrain. 

"Psst."

He turns to him with wide eyes and a playful grin. 

"We have five minutes," Mew whispers. He grabs Gulf's hand and takes off at a run up the stairs. They giggle the entire way up, stopping at the top to catch their breath and shush each other. Mew holds his hand through the hallway as they peek into all the doors. He can't ignore how perfectly they fit together. 

Tharn's room is overrun with equipment, so his junior does the unexpected- he brings Mew into the next room over. Neither of them turn on the lights. Gulf shuts the door and leans against it, looking so tempting and beautiful with his burning, curious eyes. His lips are parted, as if a question hangs on the tip of his tongue, and Mew can't help but remember the feel of that tongue against his and the sweet taste of his co-star. 

Mew laughs to break the silence. "I thought I was kidnapping you. Am I your prisoner now?"

Gulf smiles and nods. "I always have my way." 

How true. He takes a step closer. "I, of all people, should know that." 

"Does it bother Khun Phi?" He raises an eyebrow. A challenge. A dare.

The little brat thinks he has the upper hand. Mew takes another step. "Why should it?" Another step more. "I let you have your way with me." 

His breath visibly hitches. Is this really happening? They're so close now. It would be so easy to lean in and claim those lips. He wants to, more than anything. That look in Gulf's eyes- is it longing? 

His junior seems to remember the script. "Then, let me have my way all night." 

Mew considers surrendering right then and there. To fall to his knees and tell Gulf how much he adores him. To kiss the tips of his fingers and offer his damaged little heart at his altar. He closes his eyes. He lets out a breath, and when he opens them, he reaches for Gulf's hip and closes the remaining distance between them until their shirts brush against each other. So close that he can't tell whose heart he's hearing. 

"P'Mew…" Gulf's voice is barely a whisper. The softness of it caresses Mew's ears, full of yearning and something infinitely more dangerous: hope. 

And it's then that Mew realizes he can't do this. He shouldn't. It's the teasing and the flirting of the day, it's the tension in the darkness of the room and the fact that they're all alone. It's Gulf looking so utterly beguiling. But this can't be the moment when things change between them. 

"Gulf." His voice comes out rough and harsh. "We should go back na. Our time is up"

His hand releases his hip and turns the door knob. Gulf doesn't fight, doesn't lean on the door anymore. He quietly stands away, watching him with an expression Mew doesn't dare look at. He opens the door and already the air from outside feels cool. The chill rushes to his bones, reminding him of what he's doing to Gulf, that he's about to leave him cold yet again. And he can't bear to do that, either. He starts to close the door, to make amends before he repeats his mistake, except Gulf is reaching forward and shutting it himself. He presses it back against the frame until it clicks and pushes on Mew's thumb to lock it. 

"Gulf."

His junior reaches into his pocket and before he can figure out what's happening, he's blinded by the flashlight from Gulf's phone.

"Fuck!" Mew blocks the light with his hand. "Yai Nong!" 

Gulf laughs and wraps his arms around him. What the fuck is he up to now? "Sorry na, Khun Phi." Mew feels a soft press against his eyelid and realizes it's Gulf kissing it. He gives a second kiss to his other eyelid. "Don't be angry with me, Khun Phi." 

"Alai wa..." His voice is harsh, but already he's laughing and hugging him back. He may be notoriously hot-headed, but by now Gulf knows exactly how to handle him. His junior maneuvers behind him for a back hug. "Will you show me the rabbit na khrab?" He rests his chin on Mew's shoulder. "Naaa naa?" 

For fuck's sake. As if he didn't have vision problems already. He groans. "If I haven't gone blind. Why are you such a brat?" 

Gulf squeezes him around the waist. "Because you like brats." 

He just had to admit it, didn't he? "I also like nice people," he says. His voice has lost its edge. "Why don't you try being one of those?" 

"Khun Phiiiiiii…" Gulf uses the soft, cute voice that Mew can never say no to. "Sorry na, Phi. I'll be a good boy na. Do you forgive me?" He waits a few seconds before he pokes his belly. 

"Shia! Gulf!" Mew shoves his arms away and turns to face him. 

It happens so quickly. Gulf stands on his toes and presses another kiss, this time to Mew's forehead. He lingers there for a moment, as Mew's hands come to rest at his waist. It's instinct by now, to reach out for Gulf whenever he's close. He pulls back and smiles, leaving Mew stunned. He shines the light against the darkest wall and clears his throat. 

He's not letting this damn shadow puppet thing go, is he? "Okay na, you little shit. I'm only going to do it once, okay?" He uses both hands in front of the flashlight to make a rabbit. Gulf looks surprised, and he giggles when Mew makes it hop. He wraps his free arm around him again. 

"Show me another one." 

Mew chuckles and repositions his hands. This time he makes a goat. Gulf laughs loudly and muffles himself against the back of Mew's shirt. He rubs up and down on his tummy. "One more?" 

"You always have your way with me," he grumbles. Not that it actually bothers him. He smiles and makes a bull. 

Gulf laughs and gives him one final kiss, a peck on the cheek. "You let me," he admits. Mew touches the spot, grinning like a lovesick teenager. Gulf turns off the flashlight and reaches for the doorknob. "Are you ready na, Khun Phi khrab?" 

Mew looks at Gulf as if seeing him for the first time. Whatever just happened between them was something new. No longer just playful flirtations, but also not the dangerous precipice where they can never return. It's something different, something that Gulf seems to have discovered. Controlled, even. As if he's found the formula for staying in that safe and warm territory where they belong.

Mew looks down and nods, and when he looks back up, he gives Gulf his characteristic smile. "Khrab. Ready." 

They hold hands back down the hallway, back down the stairs. Mew starts to let go, but Gulf grabs him and squeezes one last time before releasing him. The action only confirms what Mew has only now realized- that Gulf holds more power in this relationship than he gave him credit for. 

_____________________

_His boyfriend was trying to cook breakfast. Emphasis on the word trying. Mew choked on the fumes of burnt food and turned on the hood fan._

_"What's the matter," he asked, "couldn't reach?"_

_"Of course I can reach it, Khun Phi… some people even say I'm taller than you."_

_Mew froze. His boyfriend had never called him that before. And he was definitely nowhere near his height. He looked away from the hood and found Gulf standing where his boyfriend had just been._

_"You…?"_

_His co-star quirked an eyebrow. "Is P'Mew okay?" He scooted him away from the stove. "Aow, you're letting the eggs burn na." He scraped at the frying pan, filling Mew's ears with the clanging, metallic sound of it. He covered them and moved away from the noise._

_"Gulf?" He shut his eyes and tried to block out the sound of the spatula. "What are you doing in my condo?"_

_Laughter. "I live here, silly." The laugh didn't belong to Gulf. Mew opened his eyes and found his boyfriend back where he was. "Or were you joking when you asked me to move in?"_

_Mew stared in shock at the man in front of him. Wasn't there somebody else in the kitchen just now? His brain struggled to recall a different voice. A different name._

_"No, I meant it," he said. He smiled as his boyfriend walked over to kiss him good morning. "This is our home na."_

_"My father won't let me move off campus," said his boyfriend._

_What? Mew looked at him, but he was still the same. He was still his boyfriend of nearly two years. But his words belonged to someone else._

_"Type?" He asked._

_His boyfriend made a face. "Who's Type? Are you cheating on me?" He wagged a playful finger at him._

_Mew thought about the question. Who was Type? They didn't know anyone named Type. Probably a student from the class that Mew was a TA for. It would explain the reference to living on campus._

_He pulled his boyfriend close, inhaling his scent of… shampoo? That wasn't right. He pulled away and touched his face. What the fuck was happening?_

_"P'Mew?" His boyfriend looked worried. His eyes were large and round. But those weren't the eyes he was expecting to see. They weren't Bambi eyes at all. Except his boyfriend didn't have Bambi eyes, so why would he have expected them?_

_"Let's just eat," he told his boyfriend._

_"Okay, Khun Phi."_

"Mew!" 

He wakes gasping for air. Chest heaving and hands shaking, he sits up to find Fasai staring at him in shock. Panic rises in his chest and spreads out to his fingertips. 

"Mew, honey, are you okay?" Fasai touches his neck and forehead. "You're burning up." 

"Where am I?" 

"Home, baby. You're safe na." 

He runs a hand through his hair, only to find his fingers damp. He's covered in sweat. "What- what happened?" 

She reaches for a tissue and dabs at his face. "You sounded frantic over the baby monitor. You kept saying _his_ name, followed by Gulf's name, and then Type's name." She cups his cheek. "I'm guessing this one wasn't a memory." 

"I don't know what it was." 

"Just a nightmare?" 

"More like a hybrid," he corrects. "It started out as a memory, but _he_ kept turning into… Gulf."

"Shia."

_______________

Mew drops another drumstick. "Fuck…"

"I thought this was supposed to be the good rehearsal," says Kaownah. He picks up the stick for him. 

"Thanks. Yeah. Fuck." He scratches his head. "Didn't sleep well last night." 

Kaownah nods, though he doesn't really understand. The only cast members who know about his dreams are Run, Mild, and Eye. He gives him an apologetic smile. He thought today would be easy, not shooting a lot with Gulf. But his absence just makes his mind wander even more. 

"Let's go again krhab," says P'Tee. "N'Mew, are you good?" 

Mew gives him the ok sign. "Sorry khrab. I'm ready." 

"Action."

____________________

P'Pee hands him a pair of shoes for his next scene. "I heard what happened."

Mew nods and ties his laces. "This is new. I don't know what happened. I thought I'd stopped dreaming about him." 

"Maybe you're not over him after all." 

"What?" 

Pee sighed. "Not romantically, chicken wing." He rubs his back. "Emotionally. Maybe you're not over the pain he caused you. Especially after that stunt he pulled at the wedding." He shivers and makes a noise. 

"But you all said I was doing much better." 

Pee shrugs. "This hybrid dream says otherwise. Are you so sure you're ready to love again?" 

"What are you saying?" He looks up at his senior, panic swirling in the pit of his stomach. "That I should give up? After all the shit you and Fasai and Mild and-"

"Just give it some time," he tells him. "At least until you can control the dreams."

__________________

Mild shows up later than usual. He tosses Mew a small paper bag from the pharmacy. 

"Alai wa?"

He shakes his head. "Fasai told me about your freaky hybrid dream. I don't know why we didn't think of this before."

Mew opens the bag. "Z-Quil?" 

"We'll just knock you out! No dreams." 

He looks at the bottle. "Should we really be resorting to sleeping medicine?" 

"It's over the counter. It's basically Benadryl." 

"And I'm supposed to take this every night? Forever?" 

Mild laughs. "Don't be silly. We'll do a few test nights." He claps him on the shoulder. "The main reason is so you can invite Gulf to the camping trip."

__________________

Mew enters the dressing room to find Mild talking to Gulf. Both of them seem irritated. He shakes his head, knowing exactly what they're discussing. He helps himself to a plate of fruit for a snack. Everything tastes sweeter now that he's been getting decent sleep. Mild was a genius for recommending Z-Quil. He hasn't had a single dream in days, not even when he naps. He looks over at them again. Mild shakes his head and motions for him to join them 

"I won't go just because he asks me," he hears Gulf say.

Mew slips his arms around his waist."Aw, why not?" 

His junior looks back at him with pleading eyes. "Can't we just go hiking and then go back home?"

Mew presses the side of his head against Gulf's. "We're going to watch the meteor shower, so it’ll be late. You should join us." 

Mild huffs. "He doesn't want to sleep on the ground."

"And outside," Gulf says. He sounds like a stubborn kitten. 

"Run has a tent," Mew offers. Did Gulf really think they were going to sleep exposed in the open?

"Great. Stuffed in a bag with a bunch of guys. It'll smell like feet in there." 

Mild shakes his head. "I have a tent, too. You can sleep in it by yourself." He and Mew laugh at him. He doesn't mean to ridicule Gulf, though sometimes he can't help but find him so cute that it's funny.

Gulf sulks into his arms. "Then I might as well be at home by myself in a real bed." 

Mew takes that as a hint. Is it possible that Gulf wants to sleep next to him? He grabs his belly and shakes it. "I can keep Nong Stress Ball company," he offers. "And I'll wear clean socks to bed, if it'll make you happy."

"Oooh!" Mild points at them. "I think you have him convinced!" 

Gulf shakes his head. "I don't have a sleeping bag." 

Mild throws his hands up. "Excuses! Why do I bother?" 

"Because you bet 1000 baht on us," Gulf reminds him. "Don't think I forgot! Now I definitely won't give in to P'Mew." 

Mew's hands stop patting his belly. "Wait," he leans forward to look at him. "Did I stand a chance before?" 

But his junior only laughs. "Phi, don't you know when to play along? We have to tease P'Mild. You know, give him false hope." 

Sure. Mew nods and begins nuzzling his neck. "You mean like this? Is he watching?" 

Gulf laughs and slaps at his face. "Yes, I think we have him convinced." 

Mild stands with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly unamused. "Jerks," he says flatly. "You think you're funny, but we'll see who's rich in three weeks." 

Mew stops laughing. Three weeks. They're nearing the end of shooting, and then there won't be any more of this. No more cuddling Gulf whenever he wants, no more back hugs or Grumpy Gulf sitting in his lap in the morning. 

His junior stiffens in his arms. "Nong?" Mew rubs his tummy. "Are you okay?" 

"I'll go na," says Gulf. The determination in his voice goes straight to Mew's heart. "But we're not sharing a tent with P'Mild, and someone needs to loan me a sleeping bag." 

"No need," says Mew, patting away at his stomach. "My sleeping bag fits two."

He has no idea what he's doing, and whether or not this is a good idea. All he knows is that three weeks isn't nearly enough time to hold onto Gulf. He'll take whatever time he has left and make the most of it.

__________________

Stubborn, adorable brat. Mew eases Gulf against his chest so they can look up at the sky. It's a perfect night. Not too hot or cold. No clouds. Gulf in his arms, feeling soft and squishy and warm. He wishes it could be like this all the time. 

"There!" Run points up. 

A flash of light soars across the sky and vanishes. Another one follows, and he hears Gulf gasp. It makes him smile, being able to share this moment with him, holding him close as he makes a wish on the shooting star. 

_I wish that we can be together for a long time._

He hums softly in Gulf's ear, rocking them from side to side. Gulf lays his hand on top of his and entwines their fingers. It has to be real, right? There's no fanservice, no skinship exercises. It's just them under the stars, holding each other. Maybe it's not so crazy for them to be together.

Later in the night, Mild taps him on the shoulder. "Here, while he's sleeping." 

He looks at his nong passed out in his arms. Has he ever seen anything more breathtaking in his life? He takes the bottle of Z-Quil from Mild. Why is it so sticky? 

"Shia, Mild…" he looks at it closely. Wasn't it more full than this when they packed it? 

Mild empties his toiletries bag. "Fuck." He shows Mew the sticky interior. "It spilled. How much is left?" 

"Looks like half a dose." Mew squeezes his eyes shut. This can't be happening. Not tonight. Not when everything was going so well. 

Run kneels next to him. "You could stay up instead."

Mew shakes his head. "No, I'll take what's left. Maybe I can spoon out what spilled in the bag?"

Mild sighs. "It wasn't the only thing that spilled." He holds up an empty bottle of mouthwash." 

"What the fuck happened to that bag?" 

"It fell in the ditch, remember?" 

"Shia."

Mew takes a deep breath and downs what's left of the sleep medicine. At least there was something. He buries his head in Gulf's neck, inhaling the earthy smell of him. _Please don't let me dream tonight._

_________________

Mew sneaks through the tall grass, trying his best to be quiet. He can hear Gulf making the most delicious and obscene noises in the tent to distract Run and Mild. He has half a mind to turn around now and pounce on him. 

"Damn, Khun Phi's really giving it to him." 

He wishes. Mew grabs them both at the shoulders. "Giving what to him?" 

"Shia!"

"Ghost!" 

Mew's laughter fills the campsite as Mild and Run shout and shove him.

"I thought I died!" 

"I thought I died, reincarnated, and came back as myself!" 

Gulf emerges from the tent, laughing hysterically at his seniors. The color is still gone from their faces. They applaud his performance and he takes a bow. 

"What did P'Mild say before?" Gulf teases. "That I don't act on the show, I just walk around without a script?" 

Mild looks sheepish. "I mean, this was a good performance, but was it really acting?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "More like a preview, if you ask me!" 

"Maybe," says Gulf. "But I'll make sure it happens after the show airs so you'll lose that 1000 baht." He waves off Mild's protests and returns to the tent. 

Mild and Run turn to face Mew. "Did I hear that right?" Asks Run. 

"He's waiting until after EP1," says Mild. 

"Talk about blue balls."

Mew rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay. Stop that. I'm going to bed na." He gives them a serious look. "Hopefully the meds will last through the night."

He enters the tent and changes back into his bed socks. His eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness, and he gropes around for the sleeping bag. It's already so warm from Gulf's body heat. He's not quite sure what to do now that he's lying next to him again. The familiar wooziness of the sleep medicine takes over him and he sighs. 

"Ah. Good night na khrab."

"Khrab." 

Hm. Mew knows that tone. His nong is irritated at him, but for what? Well, he knows what. Don't they always hold each other when they nap? Mew wants to cuddle him so badly, but damnit if it doesn't feel weird now that they're alone. Nobody on set to gush at them and take videos. Nobody to wake them up and put them back to work. Just the two of them in a sleeping bag. 

"Shia…" Gulf whispers, turning away from him. "Might as well be sleeping by myself." 

That's all the encouragement Mew needs. He can't bear to have his Yai Nong disappointed, nor can he keep his hands to himself if he's given permission. He shifts and slips his arm around Gulf's waist. "Is it okay like this na?" 

Gulf doesn't say anything and Mew wonders if he ought to move back. Then the sleeping bag moves and Gulf scoots back to fully wedge himself in Mew's arms. He blinks a few times to get his bearings. The medicine is making him groggy, but he can't be imagining this. He squeezes him tightly, savoring the softness and plushness of him. Gulf's body heat is overwhelming, but Mew wouldn't let go to save his life. He's about to fall asleep with Gulf in his arms.

"Khrab," he says. 

He rubs little circles on Gulf's tummy as he drifts off.

___________________

_Mew climbed into the bed with Gulf. "So sleepy," he murmured. His arm wrapped around his waist and hugged him close._

_Gulf laughed and patted his arm. He lowered the volume on his game so Mew could sleep._

_When he woke up, something felt different. He went to grab Gulf's tummy, but instead of squishy baby fat, he felt hard abs. This wasn't right. He looked up and saw the face of his boyfriend, asleep and serene._

_He stirred and opened his eyes. "I could feel you looking at me." Said the voice._

_Mew chuckled and brushed the hair from his face. "That's because every part of me wants to touch you, even my gaze." The words left his lips, robotic and rehearsed. He knew the lines, but he felt nothing behind them. They were just a memory._

_"You're so corny."_

_Mew sat up and looked around. They were on the Tharntype set, but why was his boyfriend here?_

_"You shouldn't be here," he told him. His voice sounded far away, as if underwater._

_"But this is our bed," he said. And when Mew looked back down, he was right. They were at home, in their bed._

_Mew looked at his boyfriend, except he was supposed to remember something about him. Something important. His head pounded and he pressed on his temples._

_"You still shouldn't be here," he insisted. "Because… you don't live here anymore."_

_His lover looked startled. "What are you talking about?"_

_Mew shook his head. "You left me."_

_He reached out to Mew and smiled. "But you took me back, remember? After the wedding?" He cupped his cheek and moved in for a kiss._

_Mew pulled away. "But I didn't." He moved his hand. "I don't love you anymore."_

_Tears filled in his ex's eyes. "But you said you would love me forever. You're mine."_

_But that wasn't right. Mew shut his eyes and wiped at his own tears. "I'm my own, damnit. You left me, and you killed our love. You don't deserve me."_

_"But I still love you," he pleaded._

_Mew opened his eyes. "But I don't love you."_

_"If you say no again, you'll never get me back," he threatened._

_Mew's laugh was bitter. "I already lost you, remember? You said it yourself- you have to lose something to get another thing."_

_"And that other thing is him?" He wiped at his tears. "You think he can ever replace me? What we had?"_

_"He already has." He sighed and pointed at his heart. "And you don't live in here anymore."_

_And with that, he was gone. Mew looked at the spot where he had just been. It was empty, as he had seen it countless mornings after he had moved out. He got out of bed to face the day._

_"Khun Phi?"_

_Mew turned around to find Gulf in the bed. His hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes were bleary. He stretched and yawned and Mew's heart ached at the sight. He'd never seen anything more lovely. He got back into bed and smiled at him._

_"What are you doing here?" He asked._

_Gulf smacked his lips and gave him a sleepy grin. "I live here, silly." He snuggled back down under the covers. "Or were you joking when you asked me to move in?"_

_"No, I meant it." Mew joined him under the blanket, wrapping himself around Gulf's warm and soft body. His junior pressed his hips back to rub against him, and desire flared up inside him. Gulf was in his bed. Gulf was living with him. Gulf was his boyfriend. He had been for the past two years._

_He nuzzled into the side of his neck, pressing soft kisses. "Can I make love to you?" The words sounded familiar, but Mew couldn't figure out why._

_Gulf ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes," he breathed._

_Mew moaned and curled even tighter around him. He hadn't said yes to him in a long time. He expected a different answer. "You're up early," he noted, running his hand down Gulf's stomach and under the waistband of his sweats. His hand rested on his erection. How he loved touching him._

_He squirmed underneath his touch. "I don't like it in the morning… it's too bright and I haven't had coffee yet."_

_Mew looked up in panic. His ex stared back at him, looking offended._

_"What are you doing here?" He growled._

_He sneered. "This is my memory, and he can't take it from me."_

_"It's_ my _memory," snapped Mew. "And I'll do whatever the hell I want with it." He shut his eyes and when he opened them, Gulf was back, curled in his arms as before._

_"Well?" Gulf asked. "Are you going to make love to me or not?"_

_Warmth renewed itself in Mew's body. He forgot why he had stopped touching Gulf. He thought there had been someone else there, but he must have been imagining it. He smiled and slid his hand back into Gulf's pants. It felt so good to touch him. Except, he'd touched him before, hadn't he? Gulf was his boyfriend, and they had dated for nearly two years. Surely, that was correct._

_He rubbed the front of Gulf's boxers, sliding his hand over his head. The fabric grew damp from his precum and Mew tried to suppress a moan. He thrusted his hips against him, seeking that sweet friction. He'd always imagined pleasuring Gulf. But then again, hadn't he done that the whole time they'd been dating? His mind swam with desire as he rocked against his boyfriend. It had been so long since they did it this early._

_Mew hummed_ _against his ear. "I thought you said you didn't like it in the morning anymore?" He couldn't help but tease him._

_"P'Mew, stop."_

_Mew loosened his grip. "Huh?"_

_"I said stop." Gulf shoved his hand away._

Mew's head is pounding. The daylight stings his eyes and the world is spinning. Why is his room so bright? 

He looks at the blurry figure in front of him. "Nong? Why are you…" he looks around the unfamiliar surroundings. "...here?" This isn't his room. Why the fuck is he in a tent?

"I was just wondering that myself." 

Gulf struggles to free himself from the sleeping bag. The rustling noise assails Mew's ears. Why is he so upset? Did he… shit. Fragments of his dream come back to him. His ex lying next to him in bed. His hand stroking… no. He couldn't have, not in real life. He feels the dampness on his fingertips and realizes in horror what he's done. 

"Gulf, wait." He reaches for his wrist, but Gulf snatches it away. "Gulf, I'm sorry."

"Did you just now remember my name?" He gets out and scrambles to his feet. Gulf's movements make his vision swim. The tent is still spinning. He feels nauseous and dizzy from the medicine. It's worse than any hangover he's ever had.

"Gulf, I didn't mean to."

His junior puts on his shoes and looks at him. "That's the part that hurts, you asshole." 

Mew struggles to get up. He winces and grabs his back. "Ah, fuck. Gulf, stay." But he isn't listening. He continues lacing up his shoes. Mew can't think of a way to stop him, other than to piss him off. Gulf can't resist a fight, he'd have to stay to argue, right? "Quit being childish, goddamnit." 

Gulf looks back at him, his face completely red. "Fuck you." 

Mew grabs his head. How could everything have gone so horribly wrong? He's still not sure of what happened. He tries to steady his breath. Everything hurts- his head, his back, his chest. 

Did he really touch Gulf in his sleep? Shia. He closes his eyes and fights back the tears that are building up. How could he have let this happen? What could he have been dreaming of? He remembers his ex in his bed. But weren't they on the set? But no, they were in his bedroom. But then why was Gulf there? Shia, Gulf was there in his dream. He was there, but what was he doing there? Who was he touching in the dream when he was touching Gulf in real life?

He reaches for a bottle of water and his glasses. He can almost hear Gulf's voice from the dream. _I live here, silly. Or were you joking when you asked me to move in?_ Mew remembers those words being spoken by someone else, too. It was his ex from the first hybrid dream.He remembers now how Gulf and his ex kept turning into each other. 

Mew growls and gets out of the sleeping bag. His anger flares up, seething that Gulf wouldn't even talk to him. He finds him standing alone in the middle of a field. "What the fuck was that?" He asks.

Gulf glares at him. "You tell me. Or weren't you awake enough to know who you were touching?" 

His words stab into his heart. The shame of it washes over him, but Gulf has to know he didn't mean it, right? "I already apologized for that," he says. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was you."

Tears fill his junior's eyes. "I know," he says. His voice is shaky.

"Then how can you be mad at me for what I do when I'm asleep? I don't know what I'm doing!"

Gulf looks at him, his Bambi eyes pink and glistening with tears. "You still dream about him, don't you?"

Fuck. Yes, it's true. Not in the same way, but yes. "Sometimes." 

Gulf wipes his eyes and nose. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"It was just a dream." Mew reaches for his hand. "I can't help what I dream about." Hadn't he tried to stop it? Hadn't he gone through so much to control it? Burdening his friends to monitor his sleeping, taking medicine to knock him out? Couldn't Gulf see how much he tried?

"Do you know?" Gulf slides his hand out of Mew's grasp. "That I started dreaming about you?" He closes his eyes. 

Mew doesn't know what to say. He wraps his arms around him. He doesn't want to fight. He just wants the dreams to go away. He wants for all of this to go away and for Gulf to forgive him. God knows he's been trying so hard to fix things. 

"I wish I could tell you," Mew whispers. "I wish I could tell you how I feel." 

Gulf's laugh is bitter. "But you don't know how you feel, right?" 

"You're shit at guessing, you know that?" He runs his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could, but I shouldn't. I shouldn't have done a lot of things."

"Well, you did and now I have to suffer for it." 

Anger rises back up in him. Does Gulf have any idea what he's been through these months? Sleep deprived, tormented by guilt and denial, running into his fucking ex. "You think I'm not suffering?" His voice has grown harsh again. "You think I'm not going crazy?" 

Gulf shoves him away. "Poor baby. Can't decide if you should wallow in self pity or string along some poor kid." 

His eyes are fire now, glaring at him with a rage he hasn't felt in a while. "Talk to me when your heart is broken, and see how well you handle it."

"It's broken right now, you asshole!" 

Fuck. Mew looks at him, the anger dying quickly. So, it's true. Gulf does feel something for him. "Gulf."

"No." He shoves away his attempts at holding him. "I don't want you touching me. Not when you could be thinking of him." 

"Goddamnit, Gulf!" He's shouting now. "I don't love him anymore. I haven't loved him in a long time. And it hurt so much that I can never love him again." 

"No, but you can dream about him while you're holding me."

He shakes his head. "You're such a brat. It brought back memories, that's all." Memories that Mew had tried to replace with Gulf. But how can he possibly explain that?

Gulf's breath is shaky, coming in shallow gasps. "Memories of the past with _him_ that are better than the present with me." 

No. He's got it all wrong. He tried, damnit. He tried so hard, because any present with Gulf is better than a million memories with his ex. But his efforts were all in vain. Maybe it's for the best that things ended up this way. Tears well up in his eyes. "You don't want this, Gulf."

"Why did you ask me to watch the meteor shower?"

Mew wipes at his eyes. "Because you said I should encourage you to try new things." It's the first answer that came to mind. The answer that started this whole trip in the first place. His naive attempt at trying to win Gulf's heart. 

He glares at him. "Are you part of the bet?"

"What? God, no. Gulf, the bet isn't real. Mild is just joking."

"Then I'll ask you again. Why did you ask me to watch the meteor?" 

Mew sighs. He looks down and ruffles his hair. "Damnit, Gulf. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to spend as much time with you before we stop filming." He looks up at the sky and takes a deep breath. "I didn't want to let you go. I was being selfish. I'm sorry." 

And there it is. He's told him the truth. That he's been so desperate for whatever time they have left. That he just wanted to be with him so badly. 

Gulf nods. "I feel the same way."

The response startles him. "You do?"

"Yeah. I think you were being selfish, too." He walks back in the direction of camp, leaving Mew behind him. 

________________

Mild pulls up to his condo. He gets out and helps him bring in the tent and his bags. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you want me to stay here tonight?"

"No."

"Should I call Fasai?"

"I'm fine," says Mew. He gives his friend a hug. "Thank you for trying. It's more than I deserved." He walks him to the door. 

The condo is dark and empty. Chopper is staying with his parents and he realizes this is the first time he's been alone in weeks. He leans against the door and slides down to the floor. He's crying again, sobbing into his hands. How did he let this happen? 

It's completely dark when he gets up from the floor. His hand gropes in the dark for the light switch. The brightness blinds him and he drags himself to the shower. The water is as hot as he can stand. He wants to burn the day off of him. Everything feels so dull and numb. Empty. The only variation is the occasional stab of guilt when he thinks about everything he's put Gulf through. Having to listen to his dreams for months, having his heart toyed with because of his indecision, and having his hopes crushed by something so devastating. 

He leans his head against the shower wall. It wasn't his ex he was thinking of when he touched him. The truth came to him on the ride home, but by then it was too late. Gulf was gone and it didn't matter anyway. As it is, there are too many other things that his junior is upset with him about. It won't fix anything to tell Gulf that it was him he was dreaming of when he touched him. That he fought to bring him back when he kept disappearing. That Gulf is the only person he ever wants to dream about. 

In the end, Mew doesn't get any sleep. 

________________

"Cut na khrab." P'Tee sounds exhausted. "Mew, do you need a minute?" 

Mew reaches to ruffle his hair before he remembers he's in character and can't mess it up. He can barely focus. With everything that's going on, it should be easy for him to act heartbroken that Type is breaking up with him. But he's pretty sure that's what makes it difficult, too. If he allows himself to tap into these emotions, it would be like opening the floodgates. 

Mew walks off set toward P'Tee. He makes Wai and crouches next to him. "I'm sorry na, Phi. I just can't."

P'Tee takes one look at him and seems to understand. He nods and pats him on the back. "Wrap na khrab," he says into his walkie. "We'll try again in a few days." 

Mew leaves the set without looking back.

"Hold it." He turns to see P'Pee. "Let's chat, coconut." He leads him to one of the empty sets. 

"I'm sorry," Mew begins, but Pee shushes him. 

"You want to tell me what happened? Not even Mild or Run have any idea." 

Mew does his best to explain everything. The hybrid dream, touching Gulf, and their fight in the woods. He sniffles and wipes at his tears. "I fucked everything up, didn't I?" 

His senior gives him a patronizing smile. "Define everything.” 

"It should never have gone this far."

Pee rolls his eyes. "You really think you could have kept your distance from him?" 

Mew's laugh is bitter. "No. No, I couldn't have. It's just… when I'm with him, I feel like I can be myself again." It’s the truest thing he’s ever said. How long had he been lost after his breakup? How hard had it been to claw his way back from the abyss in order to resemble the person he used to be? And it was because of Gulf that he was able to do any of that. 

"That's good."

"Is it?" After everything Gulf did for him, this is how he repays him? By breaking his heart?

Pee sighs. "Mew. Look at me, baby. Do you know? You did gain weight since the show started. I took your measurements before workshops, remember?"

"Khrab."

"You were so skinny in February. I know you hadn't been eating ever since…"

"Don't." When can he put it behind him? When can it stop affecting his life?

"Whatever's happened between you and Gulf, it's been good for you."

Mew groans. "But has it been good for Gulf? He's worse off now because of me. In any case, it's never going to go any further. Not since-"

"Shut up, Mew.” Pee touches him on the cheek, wiping at his fresh tears. “Everyone can see how he feels about you. You think one more fight will scare him away?"

"He said his heart was broken."

"Hearts heal. Look at yours."

"It's a mess."

"It was an even bigger mess after-"

"Please don't.” He winces and covers his ears. “I don't want to talk about _him_ anymore." If he can help it, he never wants to talk about _him_ every again.

"Then let's talk about how you're going to fix things with Gulf. You owe it to each other."

Mew scoffs. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing." 

"Does anyone when they're in love?" 

He makes an exasperated noise. "You can't just throw that word around, Phi. You have no idea what's between me and Gulf." 

"Nor should I. But you should." He hums in a knowing kind of way. "Figure it out so that poor boy doesn't end up as the R word, okay na?" 

"R word?"

"You handsome fool, Mew." P'Pee tsks at him. "Rebound. He deserves better than that." 

"He deserves much better than that." 

A movement catches his eye and he turns to the doorway to see Gulf walk into the room. There's something in his eyes that Mew hasn't seen before. A boldness and fierceness that's entirely new. "Khun Phi khrab, I think we should talk."


	35. Mew and Gulf

The rocking of the car should be enough to put Gulf to sleep, but he can't calm down. Not after his fight in the woods with P'Mew. Not after everything they said to each other. And maybe everything they didn't say to each other. 

His senior is in the seat behind him, where Gulf can't see his face. Not that he wants to. Ever. Mew's words sting at him as they drive back to the city. 

_I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was you._

_You think I'm not suffering?_

_You think I'm not going crazy?_

_Talk to me when your heart is broken, and see how well you handle it._

Well, he'll get plenty of practice now. Gulf clutches his chest. It's true. Your heart really does ache when it's broken. He's been holding back his tears ever since he left Mew standing in that field. All through packing up the tents and equipment. All through the awkward hike back to the car. 

Gulf's phone chimes as they hit civilization. It's a voicemail. He looks over at the driver's seat. "P'Mild khrab? Can you drop me off at the mechanic? My car is ready."

"Khrab."

P'Run helps him transfer his bags to his trunk. He waves goodbye and sits alone in his car for a while. Where does he go from here? He turns on the heat, as hot as it will go. He's freezing and he doesn't think he'll ever be warm again. There's only one other person who remotely made him feel warm, and he pulls out of the parking lot and heads in that direction. 

________________

Gulf looks at the door in front of him. He doesn't even know if anyone's home. He should have texted first. He knocks and waits. Maybe he should leave. Maybe this was a mistake.

"Gulf?" Poom opens the door. 

He doesn't wait to be asked inside. He rushes into her arms, crying the tears he's been holding back this whole time. 

"Gulfie..." she rubs his back and ushers him inside. "Sit na. Talk to me." 

He slumps onto the couch and buries his face in her neck. The familiar scent of honeysuckle calms his nerves. It's been too long since he's held her.

"What is it, honey?" She runs her fingers through his hair.

Gulf sits up and looks at her. Where does he begin? How does he explain everything that's happened since the last time they talked? He can't even remember when that was. "I- I'm sorry, Poom." He sniffles. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Is that Gulf?" A voice comes from the bedroom. 

"Rachel?" Gulf turns to see her. It's been so long now that her blonde hair has grown past her shoulders. 

"Sweetie, what happened?" She rushes to him and strokes his cheek. "Is it that guy?" She sits on his other side. 

Gulf shakes his head. "Yes, but it's more complicated than that." He swallows back his tears and wipes at his eyes. "I don't know where to start." 

Poom rubs his arm. "From the beginning, then." She looks over at Rachel. "Baby, can you get Gulf a glass of water?" 

Gulf tries to recount all the important details. The stuff about P'Mew's dreams and his ex from a few months ago. He pauses and looks at Poom when he gets to their own breakup. "It was selfish of me to end it with you," he says.

Poom gives him an indulgent smile. "I think three years of pretending to be my boyfriend was more than generous."

"I didn't mind," he reassures her. "It's not like you forced me." 

Rachel reaches for his hand. "No, but you didn't have to say yes. You have no idea how grateful we are. Do you remember all the times Poom and I almost got caught?" She laughs and squeezes his fingers. "If it hadn't been for you…"

Gulf can't help but laugh, too. "You mean like P'Jeb's party where you two were making out in the bathroom?" 

"P'Far almost walked in on us!" Poom giggles and pats his leg. "The point is, you weren't being selfish. I was. I couldn't ask you to continue lying for us. It was getting too hard to manage with both of our careers."

"But you know I wanted to end it because of him." The admission of it eats at his conscience. He stopped helping his best friend because of his stupid crush on P'Mew. 

She shakes her head. "I didn't want this arrangement to hold you back any longer. And one day, I'll have to come out if I ever want to live my life in peace. I couldn't hide behind you forever." She grins and nudges him with her elbow. "I just don't know which will be more controversial- the fact that I'm dating a woman, or that my girlfriend is a farang." _Westerner._

Rachel pokes her on the cheek. "Hey, I hear that's becoming more of a thing." 

Gulf smiles at them. He's missed their company. He's missed seeing how much they care for each other. How much they love each other. It was one of his favorite things about being Poom's fake boyfriend. He got to see what true love looks like. Today, more than ever, he wonders if he'll ever get to experience such a thing. 

Rachel shakes his arm. "Keep going na, Gulfie. What's got you so… baby, what's the word I want?" 

Poom shakes her head again. "You've been speaking Thai for how long na?" She rolls her eyes at Gulf. "Americans. It's _shaken._ What's got you so shaken?" 

Gulf laughs and closes his eyes. It feels good to finally get everything off his chest. To tell his story to someone who isn't so involved in his everyday life. Someone who isn't a cast member. Maybe some outside perspective is what he needs. And female perspective, for sure.

He tells them the rest, trying his best not to vilify P'Mew. He wants to give them the facts, to have them judge for themselves what they make of the situation. He doesn't want them to take his side just because they love him. Least of all, he doesn't want their pity. 

"And then I drove here," he concludes. 

Poom covers her mouth with a hand. "Gulfie…" she reaches for his cheek. "I don't know what to say." 

Rachel brings him a fresh glass of water. "How do you feel about him na?" 

Gulf chugs it, letting the water dribble down his chin. "I don't know." He clutches his chest. "It feels like heartburn. Maybe because I haven't eaten." 

Poom pulls out her phone. "Crispy pork and basil it is," she says, typing into the screen. 

"Ma ma," says Rachel, easing him to lay his head on the pillow in her lap. "Do you want to nap until the food gets here?" 

"Actually, do you have any pork rinds?" 

Poom giggles and heads for the kitchen. "We should have started with those, huh?" 

"Hey," Rachel whispers. "She really missed you, you know. We both did."

He curls up in her lap. "I missed you guys, too."

Poom drops the bag of pork rinds in front of him. "Mmgh. They might be stale. You're the only one who eats these." 

He tears open the bag and eats until the crumbs make him cough. 

"Easy, baby." Rachel pats his back. "That man of yours been starving you or what?" 

"He's not my man, remember?" He tosses the half empty bag on the coffee table. "He's clearly still not over his ex." 

"We don't know that for sure." 

"He still dreams about him." The words get choked in his throat and he gets up for more water. 

"How long were they together?"

"I heard someone say two years." 

"How long ago did they break up?" 

"Close to when we were cast, I think?" 

Poom lets out a long whistle. "Those were some pretty fresh wounds when you met."

"Do you have any idea what you've been up against this whole time? Name? Age? Occupation? Do you even know what the guy looks like?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "I didn't want to know. I fooled myself into thinking he was over him."

"Sounds like he did the same thing." 

Gulf sits back down on the couch, letting Poom hug him and pet his hair. He closes his eyes and savors the touch. Before P'Mew, she and Rachel were the only ones who ever hugged him. Everyone else was too put off by his antisocial demeanor. Only they saw the kind of affection he really wanted. 

"Forget the ex. It seems like P'Mew is trying. We don't know what went on in his relationship, no more than he knows about ours." 

It's true. Gulf remembers the way P'Mew acted when he let it slip that he had a girlfriend. He became so distant and restrained. It was one of the reasons he decided to end it with Poom. Even if they weren't really dating, it still felt wrong. But of course he couldn't tell Mew the truth, not without risking her exposure. It wasn't his secret to tell. Maybe, just maybe, there's something that Gulf isn't seeing. Is it foolish for him to keep hoping that things will work out? 

"What are you like around him?" Asks Rachel. 

"Huh?"

"You know, your personality." She pats his leg. "When you dated Poom, you used to put on this tough guy facade. You never smiled or laughed. You were so unapproachable to others."

His ex ruffles his hair. "Yeah, but we know the truth, that you're nothing but a soft cuddle monster!" She hugs him tight. "Gulfie loves being squeezed, don't you?" 

"Yeah, yeah…" he laughs and sits upright. He's never been good at hugging people, but he's always loved being held. "P'Mew knows about that."

Rachel gasps. "He does? And?"

His face burns up as he fights back a smile. "And he hugs me all the time. And he lets me sit in his lap." He looks away from them. "And he holds me when we nap together."

"You nap together?" Poom's mouth falls open. "And you say you're not dating?" 

Gulf shakes his head. "I mean, when you say it like that, it seems like-" 

"It seems like he can't get enough of you," says Rachel. "What are you like around him? Are you, you know… nalak nalak?" 

Gulf squirms in his seat. "Shia…" he sighs and nods. "Yes, I act cute around him. I don't even know when I started to let that part of me show. You know I've always been good at hiding it." 

"But?"

He shrugs. "Something about him makes me want to open up and stop being afraid to be myself. I _want_ to show him who I am."

"Sounds like he's made you discover a few things about yourself, too."

Gulf blushes. "That I like men? Yeah, that was kind of a surprise."

"Really?" 

"Rachel!" Poom smacks her leg. 

Gulf bursts into laughter. He didn't think he'd be laughing like this so soon, but then again that's why he loves Poom and Rachel so much. "Was I that obvious?"

Rachel snorts. "You spent three years being someone's fake boyfriend, and you never once showed any interest in another girl."

"Or a guy," he protests. 

"Are you sure about that?"

Gulf startles. "What do you mean?"

"You made us watch SOTUS with you." 

He covers his face with his hands. His ears are burning and he knows he can't hide anything from them. It's one of his favorite memories, though, snuggled on the couch with Poom and Rachel under their plush blankets, watching SOTUS. He thinks back on all the times his heart skipped a beat whenever Kongpop flirted with Arthit and he wonders now how he didn't see it back then. 

They sit around the coffee table when the food arrives. Poom keeps spooning the best pieces of pork onto his plate. "Need you to keep up your strength."

"When are you going to talk to him?" Asks Rachel. 

"Do I have to?"

"Of course you do," says Poom. She pours him more water. "People who love each other should talk things out." She gives him a big, cheesy smile. 

"I don't-" 

"Really?" Rachel cuts in. "Don't even pretend you don't love him. You may not know if you're _in love_ with him, but we can see you love him."

Gulf closes his mouth. Fair enough. 

"I know he hurt you," says Poom. She gives him that look she's given him a million times before, whenever he's felt lonely or misunderstood. "Which is why you owe it to yourself to talk to him and either reconcile or get closure."

He leaves their condo feeling less dejected, albeit still heartbroken. And cold, of course. He takes the hottest shower he can stand when he gets home, hoping to boil off all the traces of P'Mew's touch. Every fingertip that made his skin feel tingly and electric. Every kiss and caress and pat to his tummy. He used to fantasize about being marked by Mew, of being bruised by his passionate touches and red from his love marks. But now he's grateful for such unblemished skin. He wants to submerge himself in the scalding water and come out completely clean and new. Untouched and unclaimed. He wants to belong only to himself the next time he sees Mew. He wears a sweater to bed and shivers under the covers until he finally passes out. 

_Gulf walked to the center of the workshop room. His palms were sweaty and he wiped them on his jeans as he kneeled down on the floor. P'Mew looked at him with a kind of half-hearted interest. It was how he'd been looking at him ever since workshops began. He was always right on the border of indifferent and fascinated, a kind of warring states that left Gulf wondering what his senior truly thought of him._

_P'Jane called scene, and Gulf stared into Mew’s large and expressive eyes. Why did it make him so shy to look at them? Was it the half moon shape they made when he smiled? The penetrating gaze he sometimes gave him? Or perhaps the mysterious sadness that appeared when P'Mew thought nobody was looking? It made Gulf want to weasel his way past those walls or break them down entirely. He wanted to find the beating heart of P'Mew's unhappiness and nestle into its corner until he could make it go away. He wanted to know what secrets caused that look in his eyes. Because something in his gut told him he'd know what to do if he were given the chance._

_As to why Gulf was so drawn to his senior, he hadn't the slightest clue. Hero worship made sense. Not that he was attracted to P'Mew. Nothing like that. He admired him, was all. Surely everyone who had seen his love scenes had reacted in the same way. So when he came face to face with Mew Suppasit on audition day, how could he not turn red all over, being so close to the man who'd made his heart race and his palms sweat? Worse was that he was so much more handsome in person, and to be looked at that way by Mew Suppasit was to know the fire burning in his stomach and the ache in his chest that he was certain nobody else would ever make him feel._

_Gulf looked down at P'Mew's lips. They were nothing extraordinary, nothing he hadn't seen before. And yet. God, it was so weird, looking at them now in this setting. Doing this scene from Call Me By Your Name, acting as if they were soon to be lovers. The idea was intoxicating and Gulf wanted to kiss those lips for real. He could do that, couldn't he? It was only pretend._

_He leaned close, staring back into P'Mew's eyes, daring him with his own to make a move. He channeled Elio, feeling his desire and curiosity as if it were his own. How he wanted to feel the touch of another man. How he wanted to taste him._

_Gulf pressed his lips to P'Mew's, feeling at first a slight tremble from his senior. He knew his actions were unexpected, but Gulf felt confident he wasn't trespassing. They would be kissing for real in a few weeks, what harm could it do ahead of schedule? He closed his lips around him and when he opened them once more, P'Mew was kissing him back. And it was ecstacy._

Gulf wakes with a smile on his face. His dreams of P'Mew have been full of memories he wants to hold onto. He likes to keep things of sentimental value, things like his name tag when he was campus moon or when he auditioned for Tharntype. He's thought about starting a journal, but he's never been good about that sort of thing. Instead, he makes little notes on post-its or receipts or any bit of paper he can find and writes down the memories he wants to keep.

He stretches and reflects on his dream. Sometimes he can't believe he was that bold. How could he not realize he was attracted to Mew back then? He recognizes now how obvious it was from the start. He's been infatuated with P'Mew ever since he saw him onscreen. He never stood a chance. 

A heaviness overtakes him as he remembers the events from yesterday. Of P'Mew touching him while he dreamt of his ex. Of their stupid fight in the woods. Of Poom and Rachel's advice that he owed it to himself to talk it out with him. He thinks about Rachel's question. _How do you feel about him na?_

He grabs his chest again. It feels cavernous and cold. He wants to forgive P'Mew, but he also doesn't. If they made up, would anything change? Could they stand a chance at being together? Or would there always be this fracture in their relationship? Most of all, is P'Mew worth all the pain? He reaches for the box under his bed and grabs a few of the papers. 

_P'Mew asked for my LINE info. Couldn't look him in the eyes._

_Samet Island. Special EP love scene. Was he Tharn or P'Mew?_

_I fed him congee._

_Shower scene. He bit my fucking stomach… Is it weird that I liked it?_

_Note to self: P'Mew is ticklish._

_Today he told me, "Be careful, or you'll make fall for you."_

Gulf puts the papers away and gets ready for the day. He knows what he has to do now. 

________________

Gulf listens to P'Pee's voice from outside the room. "Figure it out so that poor boy doesn't end up as the R word, okay na?" 

"R word?"

"You handsome fool, Mew." P'Pee tsks at him. "Rebound. He deserves better than that." 

"He deserves much better than that." 

Gulf's fist is so tight he feels his nails dig into his palm. He opens his hand to see tiny red crescents of broken skin. He's tired of being the passive character in his own life. He's tired of simply reacting to things or having his personal life reflected back at him through metaphor or allegory or whatever. He's tired of not having any control. 

He steps into the room. P'Mew and P'Pee look at him. "Khun Phi khrab, I think we should talk."

There's a moment of silence where they all look at each other. Gulf waits for them to blink first. They nod at him, as if they were expecting his interruption. 

P'Pee nods and pats Gulf's shoulder on his way out. "Give him hell na." 

Mew looks at him with large eyes. His mouth trembles as Gulf stands in front of him. Is he frightened? He makes as if to speak, but Gulf holds up a hand. "Me first," he says. Not harshly. Just plainly. "I have something to tell you that I should have said a long time ago."

Mew nods and motions for them to sit on the couch. He didn't expect him to give in so easily, but his senior's acquiescence gives him the courage to go on. They sit close to each other, even though they're not on good terms. It's just their way, he supposes. They're always so close. The anticipation builds in his stomach, and he's not sure if he can get on with it, but the patient look in Mew's eyes makes him want to try. 

He takes a deep breath and looks his senior in the eyes. "I'm not good at reconciling, but I'm good at speaking frankly." His voice comes out softer than he imagined. "Do you know, Khun Phi, that I'm in love with you? I didn't realize it for a long time, and now I don't know what to do with myself. But I think you love me, too."

Panic fills P'Mew's face. His mouth falls open and he looks down at the cushions. He's quiet for a while, but Gulf only waits. Mew looks up with such sad eyes that Gulf thinks he might cry. "I tried so hard not to love you," he says. "I wasn't ready, and I didn't think you'd want me-"

"Don't be mistaken," Gulf cuts in. He squeezes his hand. "I don't want to be with you, P'Mew." 

"Wh-what?" He looks utterly broken. So, it's true then. P'Mew loves him back. "Is it because of what I did?" 

"Not entirely. But I can't be with someone who thinks of another person when he touches me."

Mew's eyes darken. "What about flirting with someone when you're in a three year relationship?" He swallows hard. "I've been cheated on so many times. How do you think I felt when you dropped that bomb?" 

Gulf’s mind flashes to that day at the mall, when Mew was upset with him. It was right after he told him about Poom. Is that why he was mad? Because he was hurt? He places his other hand over Mew's. "It wasn't real. Poom said I could tell you the truth, but you have to keep it secret." He waits for him to nod. "We never really dated, Phi. She's in a relationship with a woman, and I only pretended to be her boyfriend. Do you really think I'm the kind of person who could cheat?" 

"No." He shakes his head. "No. I didn't mean to mistrust you. It's just…"

"You're scarred by your past," Gulf finishes. The tears build up behind his eyes. "And that's why I can't be with you right now. Not like this. It's not fair to either of us."

"I wasn't thinking of him when I touched you," Mew blurts out. "It was a memory of him, but in the dream, I told him I didn't love him anymore. I dreamt that you took his place, and it was you I was touching. I spoke to you as if you were the one I dated for two years." 

His words sink in slowly as Gulf tries to make sense of them. Mew was thinking of him? Mew was dreaming of him? He almost cries, but he holds back his tears. "That's just it, though. I don't want to be his replacement. I don't want to be a rebound, like P'Pee said." He reaches out and touches Mew's cheek. "I do want to be with you, but I want a fair chance, not a fighting one. I want you to want me because you love me, and not because you're lonely." 

"It's not because I'm lonely."

"Then it won't hurt to wait." A few tears break through and run down his cheek. "I want your whole heart, P'Mew. I told you, remember? I want everything. So, you need to heal first. Properly." 

Mew nods, his eyes turning pink and glossy and he looks away from him. "I want to be the man you deserve, but can you stand to be with someone this damaged?" 

Gulf can't help the smile that spreads across his face. He just had to fall for someone so dramatic. He turns Mew's chin to face him. "Do you know what your mother said to me that day at workshop? She said you're not an easy man to love. That your experiences have left their marks on you, and it would take someone special to put up with your bullshit." He laughs and brushes his cheek again. "She said whoever ends up being your last love needs to make peace with never being your first love. I've done that, Phi, but I need to know that you've left your past in the past." 

"I promise to do that." His breath shakes and his lip trembles. "I don't want you to wait for me, though. You're 21. There are so many things you haven't done yet." 

He laughs again. "What, you think I want to sleep around first?" He shakes his head. "I'd have to talk to people, and we both know I'm no good at that." 

Mew laughs, too, but he looks at him with concern in his eyes. "I worry that you'll regret not being with other people before getting into something serious. I'm 28. I already know what I want. What if you change your mind?" 

Is that what he's afraid of? Gulf sighs. "I'm not interested in casual dating. You know I'm careful about who I open up to, and I'm not the kind of person who can enter a relationship lightly."

Something changes in Mew's eyes. Is he starting to get it now? Gulf presses on. "I'm not a romantic person, Phi. I'm very simple when it comes to these things. I don't need love to be a rollercoaster." He runs his hand through Mew's hair. "I want someone I can grow old with. I want something like what my parents have. Maybe I'm being naive, but when it comes to dating, I'm looking for someone I can build a life with, and I think that person could be you." 

P'Mew starts crying. His face crumples until he's a weeping mess, and Gulf pulls him forward so their foreheads are touching. "Why are you crying?" He asks. Just like Mew asked him at workshop when he sobbed into his shoulder. 

"Because I think that person could be you, too." He whispers. So softly that Gulf almost doesn't hear it. "Because I still can't believe that you love me." 

"First, I want us to be friends," Gulf says. "I want to know you, Khun Phi. I want to know you better than anyone. And I want to be there for you while you heal. Will you let me take care of you, too?" 

Mew considers it. "Friends, huh? Just you and me. No Tharn, no Type. Just us."

"Just us." 

"One condition," he says. "I want you to decide when we're ready to be together." 

The request fills Gulf with warmth. Hasn't that been what he's wanted this whole time? A say in the matter? Not having to look to his senior to make the decisions for him? "Shai." He caresses the little hairs along Mew's neck. "You said it yourself, I always have my way." 

"I let you."

"Then let me have my way all night." He pushes Mew down onto the cushions and curls up in his arms. "I don't know what our friendship will look like, but we need to be more honest with each other. Agreed?"

Mew holds up his pinky. "Agreed." He smirks at him. "Can I still flirt with you?" 

Gulf laughs and wraps his pinkie around Mew's. "You better. We may not be dating, but it still feels good to know that you want me." 

"You know, that goes both ways."

"We'll see." He leans to look up at him. "And one more thing."

Mew runs his fingers through Gulf's hair, touching him as if he's precious to him, and this time Gulf knows it's true. "Anything."

He grins at his senior. "I get to drop the honorific and call you Mew whenever I want." 

His eyes widen at first, but they melt into the soft look that Gulf adores. "Let me call you P'Gulf and it's a deal." 

They shake on it and Gulf settles back in his arms. It feels right being wrapped in them again. He feels safe and loved and most of all, warm. 

_______________

The entire set is silent aside from Mew's crying. Gulf can hear it out in the hallway, where crew members stare at the ground, listening to his heartbreaking sobs. Gulf clenches his fist to keep from losing it. His ears strain to hear P'Tee call cut, and when he does, he's back in the apartment and throwing his arms around Mew. 

His senior trembles at his touch, still shaken up by the breakup scene. Gulf pulls him close. He rubs his back as Mew's tears dampen his shirt. He makes no attempt to stop his crying, only lets him get it all out. 

"It's me, Khun Phi. It's Gulf." 

Mew's arms wrap around him, squeezing him until he can't breathe. "Gulf."

"I'm here." 

When he quiets, Gulf wipes the tears from his eyes. He can tell everyone is watching them, but he doesn't care. He holds his senior by both cheeks, looking into those large and mournful eyes. _It's okay,_ he mouths, _I'm here_. 

"That was perfect," says P'Tee. He pats Mew on the back. "I knew you'd come back with an even better performance this time. Good work."

Their eyes follow him out of the room before Gulf turns back to his senior. "All those video chats with P'Mame really paid off."

Mew looks at him with such adoration in his eyes that Gulf knows his ears are turning red. "Mm. But it was the thought of losing you for real that made me cry." He reaches for his hand. "I wouldn't let myself feel those things before, because I was afraid I couldn't stop once I started. Now that we've worked things out, I'm able to channel those emotions without falling apart." 

Gulf hugs him again. "If you do, I'll put you back together." 

"Be careful," says Mew. "You keep making me fall for you." 

"Good."

_________________

"Are you going to be okay?" Gulf pats his senior on the back. 

Mew nods and gives him a wistful smile. "Thanks na for being here." 

"Of course." He's not scheduled this evening, but it's another of Mew's crying scenes. He stands in the hallway outside the Kirigun living room and watches Tharn break down in his brother's arms. It's worse seeing it, compared to hearing it through their apartment door. He remembers asking Mew how he was able to cry like that. _It gets easier the more times your heart is broken._ He remembers, too, the plea his senior made to him that night. _Don't break my heart like Type._ He makes a promise to himself that he'll never let it happen. 

Mew is still crouched on the floor when P'Tee calls cut for the night. Staff members attend to him and wipe his eyes and nose. Gulf rushes out and reaches for his arm, helping him up to his feet. He looks so broken. He can barely stand still as he waits for the sound manager to remove Mew's body mic, and as soon as he's free, he coaxes Mew's arms around his waist. He can't wait any longer. His heart is aching to comfort him, to make the pain go away. 

Mew holds him so tightly. Gulf doesn't think they could be any closer, and he wouldn't have it any other way. For the rest of their relationship, he doesn't want there to be any more space between them. 

"Oe oe," he says as he scratches his back. "Oe oe."

_________________

"Get him off me!" Gulf growls into his headset. 

"Quit running away!" 

"But I'm being chased!" He circles his character back around. Mew catches up and kills the enemy on his tail. 

"There, now heal up." He sighs heavily on the other end. "Why do you always run off like that? Can't you stay close to me?" 

Gulf grins. He's learned that the whiny tone in his voice means his Khun Phi is feeling insecure. "Is P'Mew talking about the game or real life?" 

"Yai Nong…" 

"Mew…" he laughs at the strangeness of addressing him by just his name. It feels naughty, almost. 

"I have ten minutes before I have to leave for class." 

Gulf pouts. "This is a good enough stopping point for now, I guess. Let's call it a day."

"Okay khrab." There's a long pause before he speaks again. "Do you want me to call you when I get home?" 

Warmth fills Gulf's tummy and he closes his eyes to savor the question. P'Mew's been asking it every night so far. "Khrab. Sounds good." 

"Then… I'll get going na." 

"Okay khrab."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye-bye na."

"Bye."

"...bye."

"Okay, bye."

Gulf laughs and shakes his head. "No, YOU hang up first."

"Aow," Mew's voice is high pitched. "That's not what I was doing. You're so cruel to your Khun Phi." 

He's laughing so hard he can't hear the rest of Mew's protests. "Study hard and call me when you get home na." 

Mew sighs on the other end. "Khrab." 

It's Mew who finally hangs up. Not that Gulf keeps track or anything. He makes a contented sound and lies back on the cushions. So, this is friendship with P'Mew. It feels the same, but different. It's like all the good parts of their previous relationship have stayed, and all the confusion is finally cleared. For now, at least. He hugs a pillow to his chest and smiles so wide that he can't see anymore. 

________________

"I never said I love you?" No sooner does the question leave Type's mouth that he realizes it's true. He's never told Tharn. Not with words, anyway. 

"You never did." 

Fuck. Of course he never did. Because he's a shitty boyfriend. But not anymore, though he still can't help but tease him. 

"Then consider I already said it." 

"Come on, Type. Don't cheat." Tharn's voice is pleading and cute, just how Type likes it. He's missed his boyfriend's nagging. "Say it again… please." 

Type gives him a look that says, _I'll consider it._

"Pleeeaaaase."

Fuck, he's so cute. It's even better when he says it in bed. He quirks an eyebrow at him. "Listen carefully, I won't repeat." He pulls him in to rest their foreheads against each other. "I love you, you asshole Tharn." 

His boyfriend's hands grab at his waist, pulling him closer. A high pitched whimper escapes Tharn's mouth as he starts to cry through his smile. 

Type can't keep his hands still. He has to stroke his hair and the spot behind his ear. "Crybaby," he teases. Because Tharn is ugly crying now, but it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Tharn, crying from happiness, from being told _I love you._ It sums him up so much. Type strokes that spot again behind his ear, the spot he likes to caress in bed and the place he rubs when his needy, wonderful, adoring boyfriend needs to be comforted. 

Somewhere inside Type comes a flicker of that other person. Gulf emerges for a second, smiling at Mew because it's Mew who's crying now. It's that same broken sobbing from the day he confessed to his Khun Phi and told him he loved him. And he can't help but respond the same way he did then. 

"Why are you crying?" 

And Mew quiets, knowing he's being held by the person who loves him. 

"Cut khrab. Okay khrab." P'Tee removes his headphones. "Costume change and then get ready for the ice kiss."

Gulf looks at his senior, at the tears still streaked across his face. 

"Come on na," he teases. "Haven't you cried enough, you baby?" 

Mew sniffles and half cries/half laughs. "Did you call me baby?"

"I called you _A baby_ …" he shakes his head. "Ma ma ma. Get up." He helps him to his feet. 

Mew grabs at his tummy. "Is Yai Nong that eager to kiss me?"

Gulf leans in and raises an eyebrow. "Shai." He smiles at Mew's surprised reaction. "It's our last one, Khun Phi. Better make it good." 

_______________

Type winces from the jagged bundle of ice pressed to his face. "Be gentle," he snaps. 

His boyfriend laughs at him. The jerk. "Then stay still."

"You're hurting me." Who knew that pretty boy Lhong had a killer right hook on him? 

"You usually like the pain." Tharn teases. "And now you're complaining?" Asshole! Type only likes it in bed and he knows it. 

He sucks it up and allows his boyfriend to tend to him. "How many punches did you take?" He asks. And now Tharn's offering to let him punch him. That damn hero complex. Even still, the fact that he doesn't want to see Lhong again, not even to beat the shit out of him, says a lot. He's feeling guilty, Type can see it. What's it going to take to help him get over this mess? Even the first step away from it would make a difference. 

He sighs and gets up. He can think of a better use for this ice. He puts it in his mouth and gives Tharn that look. His boyfriend doesn't need much coaxing after that. He leans in with his lips parted, already anticipating the frosty exchange. 

It's so different from the first time. For starters, he's not fucking caught of guard. But mostly it's because they're in love. Corny and unexpected as it is, he, Type Thiwat, is in love with a man. And goddamnit, he will never let go of him ever again. It's Tharn's tongue that swirls around the ice, but it's Mew's lip that trembles as they part.

"More?" He asks. 

Gulf wrinkles his nose at him. "Don't ask," he says. They laugh as they recognize each other. 

He can't help it. As soon as Mew slips the ice into his mouth, Gulf pounces on him. He pulls him closer by the back of his neck because it's not enough. It will never be enough. He tries to push the ice to the side to get at Mew's tongue, and he feels the warm softness of it against his own. God, he wants a lifetime of this. Of kissing him with no restraints, feeling the gentle caress of his tongue and how downright _needy_ Mew is for him. It drives him crazy, knowing that desire and yearning is real. That it's for him. 

He grabs at Mew's shoulder and he lays them down on the bed. Gulf's kisses are more insistent now. They're nearing the end, and no, it's not enough. There's barely any ice left now, just the gradual return of warmth to their tongues. The only sounds in the room are clinking ice, slurpy kissing, and heavy breathing. He wants to hold onto this moment forever, wants to store it away in the box under his bed to look at it whenever he wants. He almost laughs when he realizes he can watch it on LINE once it airs. And he'll remember that it wasn't Tharn and Type in this scene, it was him and P'Mew. 

___________________

_Mew's fingers combed through Gulf's hair and down his neck. He'd done it before in rehearsal, but now that they were on set, with the lights low and the camera on them, it felt completely different. It felt real and naughty and exciting._

_P'Mew's fingers undid his shirt buttons. He'd never been undressed by someone else before. Another first for his Khun Phi. His stomach fluttered just thinking about Mew slowly stripping the clothing off him. How weird it was to have these thoughts about another man. Was this what it meant to get lost in character? Mew's thumb grazed over his lips and Gulf had the strangest urge to take it into his mouth and suck on it. He'd never even wanted to do that to a woman._

_"You're nothing but a brat," Mew said, and a part of Gulf liked hearing it._

_P'Mew pressed a kiss to his neck. Gulf was such a bundle of nerves. Each kiss down his chest sent electricity through his body and it felt all too natural to reach up and run his fingers through his hair. But Mew's hand covered his and held it down to the bed and god, why was it turning him on?_

_More kisses covered his neck. It was officially his favorite place to be kissed now, and he hoped P'Mew would do it in every love scene. Gulf had never been kissed there before TharnType. He hadn't been kissed in many places at all. P'Mew kissed his way up his cheek toward his eyelid. He felt a tingle of anticipation for what would come next. His lips. Gulf remembered the feel of Mew's lips from rehearsal. So soft and giving, as if offering themselves before him. Yet at times guiding him, showing him the rhythm and the intensity until Gulf was left dizzy and on fire._

_He never knew kissing could be like this. Not that he had much experience. Just a few girls at parties or the club before he made the arrangement with Poom. And before then, the naive fumblings between schoolboys. But none of them ever made him feel this way. With P'Mew, god, it was euphoria. Hard to believe he could enjoy kissing a man so much. It had to be his character's emotions. It was Type's reaction to Tharn, surely not Gulf feeling things for P'Mew._

_"Cut khrab," said P'Tee. He did it several more times, calling cut and telling him not to kiss back. But Gulf had to go with his feelings, right?_

_"Cut khrab," he said again._

_Mew stood up and groaned. "Shia, Gulf. If you want to kiss me this badly, let's just find an empty room." He shook his head and stretched his back. "You're killing me na."_

_P'Tee walked over and patted Mew on the arm. "Why don't you go lie down for a minute? I want to talk to Gulf."_

_Mew gave him a look over P'Tee's shoulder that said, good luck._

_Gulf sat up and P'Tee crouched in front of him. "Tell me what's going through your head," he instructed. He always admired his director’s patience whenever he talked to his actors._

_Gulf squirmed in his seat. "I was just going with the feeling," he confessed. It was true, wasn't it?_

_"And what are these feelings? Why is Type kissing back?"_

_He felt so stupid trying to explain it. "Type is... gay, right?" He struggled to find the words. "So, deep down, he wants to kiss another guy. And when he feels Tharn's short hair and stubble, his body reacts to it."_

_"I see."_

_"And I thought it would be a good way to show how Type really feels. To sort of reveal his subconscious desires to the audience.”_

_P'Tee was silent for a while. He looked at Gulf with a discerning curiosity. "Okay, then. We'll keep it as it is." He stood and spoke into his walkie. "Okay khrab. Wrap khrab. Can someone get pain medicine na for N'Mew?"_

___________________

Gulf closes his eyes. His arms tighten around his senior, trying to pull him closer and closer until he can't stand it. Until he can't breathe. It feels like he can't, anyway. Not properly. Not now that filming is over. It means no more seeing Mew every day. No more reason to discuss characters. No more skinship. 

Mew feels so warm around him. Warm and loving and _his_. Gulf sees it now. That warmth from his senior that he could never quite name, it's the feeling that Mew is _his_. All this time, it was the fact that they belonged to each other. Because they chose each other, didn't they? That day at auditions, when P'Mame asked them who they wanted to be with. They chose each other, and every day since then the warmth has been growing between them. _Tharn goes with Type and I go with you._

It's only a matter of time before they can be together in that other way. The way that Gulf has wanted since the beginning, whether he knew it or not. The way they were meant to be all along. For now, he's happy to have everything settled between them. No more uncertainty. No more wondering whether P'Mew feels the same way. And when he looks into his Khun Phi's eyes, there's no more mystery. Only love. 

Gulf hates goodbyes. He knows it's not really goodbye. They'll still see each other often, only it'll be different. Just like their relationship. But it's a goodbye for now, and even that hurts. He knows the cast and crew members are watching them. Filming them, too. The seconds are slipping by and he knows he'll have to let go eventually. But there's one more goodbye he has to make. 

"Tharn?" He asks. 

Mew laughs softly in his ear. "Yes, Type?"

"I love you." 

Mew's arms tighten once more. "I will always love you." 

"I'll see you soon." 

"I'll be waiting." 

It's the last time that they'll hug each other to get out of character. To return to themselves. It's just their way. And when Gulf pats his senior with a closed fist, he knows it's time to let go. They walk together in the parking lot. There's a big dinner for all the cast and crew, and the short walk to their cars is the only privacy they have. 

"So," says P'Mew. "Friendship. Are you ready for it?" 

He shrugs. "It's been nice so far."

"What do you think will be the hardest adjustment now that shooting is over?" 

Gulf laughs and leans in toward his senior. "Not getting to kiss you."

Mew's mouth drops open and Gulf points at him and laughs. "This," he says to Mew, grabbing his hand. "I'm going to miss all the touching." 

"You know, that doesn't have to end." Mew arches an eyebrow. 

Something flutters in Gulf's belly. "Shameless flirt." He shakes his head. "We have to do what friends do, remember?" 

Mew looks up at the sky and sighs. "I'm going to work hard to heal na. I promise. I won't leave you waiting long." 

"I'll be there to help." 

They reach their cars and there's a heavy silence between them. Gulf shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. He doesn't want it to end. "I feel like I'm losing something," he confesses. 

Mew nods and gives him a sad smile. "Me, too. But there's an old saying, _you have to lose one thing to get another thing._ And besides, maybe we'll get a season two." 

They laugh and shake their heads. If only. Gulf straightens his posture and puts on a brave face. "Susu na Phi. I'll see you at the restaurant."

"Khrab. Drive carefully." 

"My mom's waiting in the car already. Be safe na, Khun Phi." 

"Bye." 

"...bye." 

"Okay na."

"I'm going, then."

His senior laughs. "No, YOU hang up first." 

"Aow." Gulf rushes at him and mashes his lips against Mew's. It's clumsy and off to the side like a typical BL kiss. The irony. But he makes up for it when he starts moving his mouth, pulling him in as Mew touches his waist. The kiss is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A rhythm so similar to Tharn and Type’s but with a layer that’s completely their own. Just Mew and just Gulf. It’s not really what friends would do. _No friends kiss like that._ But Gulf’s never been good at following rules. But he’s always been good at kissing Mew. He savors the touch of Mew’s skin against his own, the softness and tenderness and the tremble of his lips. And just because he can, he slips him some tongue. Mew moans against his mouth and it's then that Gulf pulls away. 

"Right then." He nods and untangles himself from Mew's arms. "I'll see you at the restaurant… friend." He salutes him and walks away before his face and ears turn red. At the last second before he turns a corner, he looks back and sees P'Mew standing there, his fingers on his lips, looking just as stunned as the night of the Full Moon Party. He laughs to himself. Friendship might be fun, after all. 

The End. 

Mew and Gulf's relationship will continue on the sequel to Skinship:

Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> It meant more than you can possibly imagine to see how many people anticipated the re-release of Skinship. Writing this story was a labor of love and it got me through so many low points in 2020. With the recent and abrupt changes of 2021, it was such a therapeutic process to revisit this work and revise it the way I had always wanted. So many things have come to light since my first draft of Skinship in November 2019 (such as the fact that Gulf doesn't like durian- RIP durian chip subplot- or Mew as the sun and Gulf as his sunflower- stay tuned for that development in Friendship!), and I want to thank everyone for their patience as I worked to make this the best version I could. I know with everything going on, it probably would have been a comfort for people to reread it in January, and I apologize for being as equally distant. To go along the same lines, it doesn't mean I didn't love you, I just had to keep things private until I was ready to share it again. 
> 
> But here it is, the reloaded version (as Sidd @kanaxmew calls it) with new chapters, revised portions, and no more durian chips lol. I poured my heart into it the first time, and once again for this edition. I hope it still evokes the same feelings it did the first time you read it, and that my changes have stayed faithful to the spirit of the original.
> 
> In any case, I would like to extend the following thanks:
> 
> Although she is no longer part of the fandom, my first word of gratitude goes to my friend Whitney, for whom I originally wrote Skinship back when it was less than 10,000 words. It was a weekend project that eventually became the first work of this magnitude that I've ever completed. Next, I want to thank my Twitter wifey, Ashley @AWSUMxASH, for being my sounding board, my proofreader, my advisor, my confidante, and my muse. There are so many parts of this story that I owe to her. Khap khun kha, thilak. Thank you again to Sidd @kanaxmew for being the purest light and for whom I want to write a better world. 
> 
> And now I must disappoint you by not naming any more people, as there are so many of you who have given me your tremendous support. As unfair as it is, I'd rather spend the time telling you how much your support has meant to me, rather than scouring my memory for names. I may not always reply to messages and comments, but just know that your words have always meant so much to me. I've been writing fanfic since... 2000? And twenty years later, I plucked up the courage to post on AO3 and the first comments I received were so lovely and encouraging. Some of you have been with me since "Happy New Year" which was the first thing I posted on here. Many of you, I've exchanged looooong comment threads, which are some of my most favorite memories. I wish I had been able to keep them when I disabled my account. I would store them in a box under my bed to cherish them forever. And for those of you who have never commented or reached out to me, just know that your support has still been felt. Every kudos or view has meant the world to me. I can't describe how it feels to know that people have connected to my words, have found themselves in it, have related to it. I've often described writing as baring one's soul, and I want to thank you all for taking care of it. 
> 
> I'm being a drama queen, I know. But this experience has been amazing for me, and it's all of you, my companions on this crazy ride, who have made it worthwhile. If it were not for you, I'd have nobody to write for, and what a sad world that would be. Thank you so, so much for your love. Let's stay together for a long time.


End file.
